Crew, But Not
by Ivanolix
Summary: Simon and River struggle to find their place on the crew post pilot episode, and the rest of the crew gets a new job on Boros. Sequel to Lost in the Background
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Despite what a good day Mal told Simon it had been, he slept like a rock the night after they left Whitefall. A rough, large, heavy rock, the sort that annoyed farmers and builders when they had a hard time removing it from the land they thought they controlled. And, of course, a rock that snored. It was a good thing that Serenity's crew quarters were at a good distance from each other.

But now the day had come, as time was reckoned in the black of space, and Mal drifted to the kitchen where most of the rest of his crew could be found lounging around. A lazy bunch, they were.

Mal grabbed a protein cake from the pile that Kaylee had prettily laid, and looked around before saying: "Anyone seen the doc? Bit late to be in bed for someone as orderly as that."

"No, he hasn't shown yet," said Wash. "But I wouldn't be surprised after the way you all treated him yesterday if he stays out of sight until we drop him off. Which, where exactly is that now that Whitefall is out?"

"What's wrong with that plan?" asked Jayne, stabbing at his protein cake until it crumbled into dust. Mal wondered if it tasted better that way, or if it was just his instinct to destroy anything no matter how helpless. "Patience'd look after him and little crazy sis."

"What are you thinking?" countered Kaylee, indignant. "They wouldn't last a day without gettin' killed, and you know it. I think you just hate Simon 'cause he can outtalk you."

"Fancy words don' scare me none," protested Jayne. "Jus' don't like folks who almost get us all killed, that's all. And he got you shot."

"Now, that ain't fair," defended Kaylee. "He didn't mean to, and he apologized and fixed me up real pretty, and you woulda hated him more if he had let the Captain sell him and his sister to the purple bellies."

"Hey, there," broke in Mal with furrowed brow. "I didn't know a speck of dust about any sister then."

"Yeah, well, it don't make no difference now," finished Jayne, shoveling a mouthful of his newly made protein dust. "We're all patched up and he can give up the fare and take his gorram merry trouble away."

"Or not, as the case may be," said Mal simply. "He might just be staying on for a while."

"Well, he can beg us to keep him all he wants, it won't do no good," snorted Jayne.

"There was no begging. I offered." Mal chewed a bite of the dryish protein slowly and then swigged down some of Kaylee's ship-made alchohol. Looking up, he raised his eyebrows at the others. Jayne was most prominent, his mouth hanging with some half-chewed protein visible, and the others were in various positions where they were frozen with shock. "We need a medic, doc needs a place to get his footing."

"You seriously letting them stay on?" asked Zoe, her own brows raised considerably.

"Unless you know of any secret scheme of the doc's to steal my ship," said Mal. It wasn't his favorite decision to debate, but he didn't see anything particularly bad about his plan either.

"What, did you go dumb overnight?" burst out Jayne. "They're fugies, Mal, and not exactly the nicest or safest."

"No, they're shiny," said Kaylee, shaking her head a little and grinning from ear to ear. "We ain't had anyone as nice as them come aboard."

Mal didn't comment on that; nice was not the word he'd use for Simon, and he barely admitted a grudging respect for the boy's determination and loyalty, but he wasn't going to deny Kaylee her own opinion, especially when she was supporting him.

"Right," said Zoe shortly, before Jayne's mouth could emit another word. "I'm sure they'll be fine additions."

"It'll make life a good deal more interesting, that's for sure," commented Wash.

"I'd thank you all for your kind opinion, but the decision wasn't up for discussion," said Mal coolly. "Now where's that doctor? He should at least keep regular mealtimes."

Simon's consciousness came slowly to him, and his senses first picked up the stream of drool that emanated from his mouth in his exhaustion, then the stiffness in his neck and back where he was leaned up against River's bed, and lastly the slightly sour smell of the bowl he was limply holding. Groggily moving out of his awkward sleeping position, he brushed his straggly hair out of his face and looked to River. Curled up in fetal position, she had one arm in a tight fist held close over her heart, and the other gripped around herself. Her dark hair was slightly damp with sweat, and clung to her face, where he could just barely make out dark circles under her eyes and tear streaks on her cheeks.

It had been a long night for both of them.

Simon had just found a position where the hard floor did not bite into him, and had willingly embraced the falling curtain of sleep, when a sob had come from above him. He sat up just in time to hear a horrible retch, and quickly shook off sleep to turn on the light. The little protein that River had eaten during the day was now all over her sheets, and she was shivering feverishly. Taking a deep breath, Simon had cleaned up, found a bowl, and sat with his arm around River as she cried silently. She had leaned her head on his shoulder and dozed, but by the time he had nodded off, she stirred again and he had to hold the bowl in one hand and with the other, hold her hair away from her face.

It continued into the night, the half-dozing and bouts of painful retching. After the third one there was nothing left in her stomach, not even bile, but the dry heaves seemed to hurt her more, and as Simon wiped her face with a damp rag, he cursed Malcolm Reynolds for this. Yes, the man hadn't meant to cause it, but when it came to River's well-being Simon didn't feel like being particularly just.

After about the sixth bout, River didn't go back to sleep.

"You all right, mei mei?" Simon asked.

"It's worse," she said. "Sleep and wake, it's worse."

"You'll feel better soon," said Simon kissing the top of her head. "I can give you a supplement to help your digestive system, and then you just have to take it easy for a couple days."

"It won't work," she said, swallowing and clenching her fist a little. "It can't be fixed."

"No, no, River, don't say that," said Simon. "This is temporary. Your body is just a little weak."

"No, I won't get better," she continued, shaking her head and clenching and unclenching her hand.

Simon took her hands in his. "River, look at me."

She looked up, and even with the flush in her cheeks and the perspiration on her brow, her eyes seemed focused. "You don't understand," she said quietly. "You think you can help me, but I am too far gone."

Simon then started getting the idea that this wasn't about her illness at this moment. "No, River," he reproached, almost fiercely, holding her hands firmly in his. "Don't give up, not now, not ever. I won't let you."

"Simple Simon," said River, her tone lilting even in its weariness. "Only thinks of love, can't see anything else."

"That's my mei mei," said Simon, confused and satisfied with her answer all at once. "How do you feel?"

"Hurts," said River. "Hurts in my head, and in my middle. Tired. Need rest. You were right."

"Imagine that," said Simon wryly.

River gently removed her hands from his grasp and lay down, and Simon noted that her fever seemed to be breaking, and her skin was going clammy. He tucked the blanket around her again and put the bowl on the floor. As he rose, he noticed her hand was unclenching a little in sleep, and he saw a glimpse of white. Gently opening her fingers, he found a handkerchief, one that she had embroidered in gen ed and that he had taken as a reminder of what he was fighting for. River opened her eyes just long enough to protectively snatch it from his hand and whisper "Home," and then settled down into the pillow.

Simon stood for a moment in silence. He had spoken to men in medacad, men who were married and starting families of their own, who had talked about the wonders of fatherhood. They talked of a moment when they first held their child, when they realized that they were responsible for a helpless little life, and that the love that they felt made the burden seem more than bearable. Simon had even tended to men in the ER, fathers who had thrown themselves in harm's way to save their child. It had not seemed unnatural at the time, but it struck him now that he had never fully understood that kind of love until now.

And that thought was troubling to him. He did not want to be River's father, to take on that role. All he had ever wanted was to rescue her so that they could live a relatively normal if hidden life away from trouble. She was his mei mei, that was all—and here he was in a situation where he had to behave like her father. _It will get better,_ he told himself. _It's just that she's especially vulnerable now; you'll be able to help her and then things will be back to the way they were._ He didn't really believe his own advice, but he told himself that he did.

Simon couldn't go back to sleep in his makeshift bed. River's sleep was troubled for the rest of the night, by shiverings and nightmares and more retching, and so it was that he found himself the next morning sitting by her side, resting his head on the side of the mattress.

He wondered what he was to do now. Yesterday had been hectic, but there were things for him to do, and he knew his place as a passenger. Now he was more than that, but not quite crew, and he was unsure how to approach that. If anything, he felt more uncomfortable than before, and didn't really want to see any of them right now. There were a few things to do in the infirmary, but he decided that it would be best to remain low for a little while. Settling down on the one seat in the room, he began a list of supplies that he needed.

Clothes for River, of course. He would have to ask Kaylee or Inara for something in the meantime, until they got to Boros. Many medical tools, as well, to get the very bare infirmary here up to a level of decency he was comfortable with. Medicines also, for River and also some general ones that he did not have enough of with him. Perhaps he would also get something special for River as well, since she was so disoriented and distressed, and needed something to tie this place with safety. It was strange that he thought of this ship as a safe place—its name had a funny way of pulling the wool over one's eyes, though the Captain had probably been correct about its being the best option.

Simon grew distracted with his list, writing out every medicine and supply that he thought he might need. He wasn't sure that he could afford it all—though he had withdrawn huge sums before the Alliance closed his accounts, he had spent much of it in buying the cryo box and paying the men that helped him—but it would be better to have more options than less.

"Simon?" River had sat up and was watching him.

"What is it, River?" he asked. "Do you feel all right?"

She didn't say anything, but looked stable enough that he didn't push anything.

"Are you hungry?" Again, he got no answer, but she did give him a slow shake of the head. "I think it would be best to run some tests today to make sure you are healthy."

"Not now," she begged. "Don't feel good."

"All right," he said, getting up and sitting next to her. "Do you think you'll be all right if I go and get something to make you feel better?"

"You'll be back?"

"Of course," he said, smiling. He reached over and gently squeezed her hand before getting up to go to the infirmary.

When he turned back before reaching the door, River had not moved, and she still seemed a little distant, emotionless. It worried him. He wasn't ready yet to contemplate all the repercussions of what had happed, but if her body was going through rapid changes to compensate for the trauma, it was unlikely that even if her mind was untouched it would have been dealing with emotions now. In a day or two it would likely be a little better.

He was glad that their rooms were close to the infirmary, and that there was little chance that any of the crew would come down, but apparently that didn't stop a determined captain.

"So, doctor," came a voice behind Simon, and he turned to see Malcolm Reynolds framed in the doorway, arms across his chest, face cold and hard in the blue-white light. "Why didn't you come for breakfast?"

"I had no idea my company was so desired," answered Simon dryly, all his feelings towards that man rising in his throat, ready to burst out.

"I'm letting you stay, but I'm not giving you free rein," continued Mal, stepping forward. "I don't want anything secret going on behind my back."

"I'm very sorry, Captain," said Simon, enunciating each word so clearly as to be almost harsh, "but I did not intend that my sister should be suffering from cryogenic trauma right now, and that I would be up most of the night taking care of her. I did try to keep it from happening, but as you said, I don't hold a very high position on this ship."

Simon expected a punch, and was surprised when it did not come. He felt a little perverse satisfaction in the idea that Mal might feel guilty. Mal's veins were visibly pulsing, but though Simon's urge was to step back, he didn't. Someone had once accused him of foolish boldness, and he had decided that it was not an innacurate diagnosis.

"You make sure you join us on all other occasions," said Mal firmly.

"I'll do my best," responded Simon sharply.

He returned to River reminded of all the reasons Serenity was not a perfect place.

"Feeling better?" he asked, surprised to see that she was reorganizing all his luggage.

"Litlte home," she said, not looking up from where she was meticulously stacking his medicines. "You have to keep your room neat."

"I see," said Simon, wondering if he would ever get a straight answer from her. "River, what have you done with my clothes?"

"Have to hide the dirty laundry, not let anyone see the truth," she said, shaking her head. Then she stopped and looked at him with wide eyes. "This isn't your room."

Simon poured out a couple intestinal bacterial supplement pills. Was she ready to hear everything? Would her mind even understand? "No," he said, "it's not."

"Have to keep it neat, don't want to make Daddy upset," she continued, turning back and pulling out the books he had brought and quickly putting them on the shelf—by Dewey Decimal number and then alphabetically by author, he noticed, though they were unlabeled.

"River," he said, coming over to her, "I don't think you should be moving too much; your body is still weak." He gave her the pills and a glass of water. "Not until I do some tests, in any case."

"You won't hurt me?" she asked shakily, her hand coming up to her head where a needle scar rested beneath her hair.

"No, silly," he said, fondly and seriously. "I won't let anyone hurt you again. Just a little bloodwork and some measurements."

"Not here, not the equiptment," answered River, her eyes darting about. "Many rooms, many hallways to see."

"Of course," said Simon. "The infirmary is just a short way away."

"No need to hide, not yet," said River.

"Yes," said Simon slowly. "But we should stay here, for a while."

"Little home," murmured River again.

"It will be," he said, and left out the _maybe_ as he put his arm around her to lead her to the infirmary.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Simon had thought that, emotionally, the past couple days were the worst it would be. He had always been naive.

The medical atmosphere in the infirmary was a blessing to him, the one solid piece of his new life. A hypo would always be a hypo, and it would always be used and respond in the same way. A heartbeat was predictable, easy to measure, and the answer he received would always have sense in it. River, however, and Serenity's crew—he grew more and more frustrated in his dealings with them.

One moment, she'd be in her own mind, such as when she said, though not to him so much as to the general area: "The sterility of the room is not satisfactory for a professional establishment; disinfectants should be applied quickly and regularly to avoid illnesses."

This was mostly like the River he knew, but in the next moment she would be incoherent, with emotions ranging the gamut from grief to panic to worry to regret. "Darkness in the mind, they hold the key to the light. Thought the key would be easy to guess, but it isn't."

"River, you need to sit still so I can get a resting heartbeat."

"Look harder for the key, don't guess in the dark."

"River?"

"Just guesses in the dark."

"That's all right, River, just hold still."

And then she would fall silent, doing what he told her to, but not appearing as if she comprehended it. In some ways he preferred that, so that his hopes were neither raised nor dashed, but then there was the fact that in the quiet his mind would think and his calm would begin to go.

It was good to be a doctor again. Months of crime, even though his heart was led by love, had left him feeling sullied. He wasn't one of those men who willingly broke the law; he knew that without laws there was chaos. And Simon did not approve of chaos. But what happened when laws aided chaos, and worse, even evil? Simply using his tools and skills again cleansed some of the darkness that he felt had snuck into his soul.

"Well now, look who's awake today." Book's deep warm tones drifted across the silence in the infirmary, and brother and sister looked up in curiosity. The older man was carrying a tray of food and set it down on one of the benches. "I noticed that you didn't show up for breakfast, and I thought you might be hungry."

"Thank you," said Simon, surprised. "I—I'm very grateful. River had some problems with the food she ate last night, but really, it's very thoughtful of you."

"I understand," said Book, and caused Simon to wonder how true that was. "I have some warm oatmeal, if she's well enough for that."

"Oatmeal, really?" asked Simon. "I didn't realize that there was any fresh food left."

"It's odd, isn't it," commented Book, settling himself down on one of the stools, "but I would have called oatmeal one of the most miserable of meals until coming aboard. Protein packets are very useful, but—"

"Staid products of formulaic ideas about food and eating being only survival techniques rather than soulful experiences," put in River, watching the Shepherd with apparent interest.

"Indeed," said Book with a smile. "Good morning, young one."

"It isn't," said River, her brow furrowing.

"It was rather a bad night," explained Simon. "And today—until you came, wasn't much better."

Book frowned. "Do you have any idea what they did to her?"

"No," said Simon succinctly. "But I do know what Captain Reynolds did."

"Ah," nodded Book. "You do understand that he had no malicious intent, I hope."

"Doesn't matter," muttered River.

Both Book and Simon turned in surprise. "What?" asked Simon.

"Doesn't matter," she repeated. "Making better worlds, doing evil." She twisted her hands and her breathing grew faster. "Intentions—don't—matter." A tear fell from one eye.

"River, it's all right, the Captain's not evil," said Simon, shocked and soothing as he gathered her in his arms again. "He won't hurt us, River, I promise you."

Book watched the two with emotion in his dark eyes. "She was not like this before, was she," he said very softly.

"No," answered Simon, low and regretful, letting her go as her stress faded. "River, are you hungry? Shepherd Book has made you some oatmeal. I think your stomach can handle it." He took one of the two small wooden bowls and spoons and gave it to her.

River frowned a little as she poked at the grey-white mixture. It had congealed a little, and were it not for the tiny slice of peach and sprinkling of cinnamon, it might have resembled something worse than protein. But she took a bite, and Simon then took some food himself.

"Thank you, again, Shepherd," he said, glad to have something in his stomach once more.

"Well, I know that the Captain may think you are a little bit of a shady character, but I was quite sure you just had a lot on your table," said Shepherd, leaning back a little and watching brother and sister. "So the Captain has given you a place on this crew?"

Simon nodded. "For the meantime—or rather, something a little less than crew. There are conditions."

"He's a good man," mused Book. "I think he only adds conditions to appease the part of his mind that convinces him that he does things for his own good alone."

Simon hmphed, but continued to eat without speaking.

"How long are you going to stay in here?" asked Book. "The crew are anxious to meet their newest passenger."

"I don't know if that would be a good idea," answered Simon, frowning. "River is very unstable now, and I wouldn't want anything to set her off."

Book smiled at River. "I can't think of anything frightening about this ship, or the crew. Perhaps a little warmth and good company would do her good, give her something to grasp onto."

Simon looked incredulous. "Shepherd, I do not think River would find it comforting to be in the presence of Captain Reynolds or Jayne."

"Perhaps not," chuckled Book. "At least the latter would be more unsettled by her presence than the other way around. But I believe that the captain is in his quarters right now, and Jayne is working out in the cargo bay. The others, however, are still around the kitchen table if I am not mistaken."

Simon looked at Book, his face open and inviting, smiling kindly. He looked to River, who had finished her oatmeal and was now watching them with an unreadable expression. For the moment, she seemed all right. "Do you want to meet them, River?" he asked.

She slid off the medical table as an answer, and reached out touch Book's shirt, tipping her head on one side. "Shepherd. Religous word, a title, characterizing a monastic order in the Aquinian denomination."

"That probably means yes," translated Simon with a little sigh. He took the folded robe that River had worn yesterday, and gave it to her to cover up her makeshift nightgown. Shepherd Book gathered the dishes, and then the three left the infirmary.

As they passed through the common area again, River looked around and walked slowly, though she did not reach out and touch anything. She did not grasp onto the railing as they went up the stairs, but she eyed it intently. As the noise drifted from the dining room, she looked up, and Simon watched her carefully. Inara and Kaylee were sitting at the table, laughing at Wash's war of wits with Zoe. It stopped as the others came into view, but the silence was curious rather than cold.

"Morning," called Kaylee brightly.

"Well hey, look who finally—whoa!" said Wash as he caught sight of Simon's face. "Doctor, you didn't have another run-in with the captain's fist, did you?"

"Wash," reproached Inara in a smoothly amused tone. "Good morning, Doctor."

"It was a bad night," explained Simon, half-leading River as she gravitated towards the table, where the remains of breakfast sat comfortably.

"Something go wrong?" asked Zoe, sitting down.

"Cryogenic shock," said Simon simply. "She'll recover soon." He and River were sitting at one end of the table, with the others in various seats around the rest of it, all looking to him with various levels of curiosity.

Zoe nodded at his explanation. "So, Captain told me you're staying on."

"For a while, at least," Simon agreed.

"It's a good move," said Wash. "At least, when it comes to the dodging feds part—we're good at that. As for the Jayne part, well, I at least apologize in advance."

Simon felt his shoulders loosen, and he almost felt like smiling.

"So this is River," added Inara, smiling at the girl. "Hello, River."

River looked at her, but did not answer.

"She's very shy," Simon said apologetically, in the best simple explanation he could provide.

"That's not a problem," answered Inara kindly. "She's probably still very frightened after what happened."

"D'ya want something to eat?" asked Kaylee. "There's not much left—Cap'n and Jayne didn't want to save you anything, but I tried."

"No, we're all right, thank you," said Simon. "Shepherd brought us some oatmeal, which is all River can eat right now."

"Wasn't it shiny?" asked Kaylee, brightening up even more, if that was possible. "Since Shepherd came on we've been havin' real good food."

"Yeah, we might just not let him leave," said Wash. "After all, we're crooks—might as well steal us some talent."

Book laughed. "Well, I might not object to a little kidnapping in this case. Of course, the fresh supplies will run out, but I've been told that I have a mean protein curry."

"Really?" asked Inara, very interested indeed.

"Curry is a traditional Indian spice mix from Earth-That-Was cuisine," broke in River. "Indiian, the original term for residents of India, not misapplied to natives of America."

"Good morning to you too," said Wash, casting a quick and rather awed glance at Zoe. "Feeling better, I see?"

"Native Americans practiced human sacrifce in the ancient Mayan temples," added River, a little upset.

Wash started at her apparent non sequitor. "It's all right, he wasn't talking about that," said Simon, patting her hand.

"It's very nice that you know all that," offered Kaylee encouragingly, scooting forward. "Lots more than I do."

Simon managed a weak smile, but the tone since River's remark had changed just enough to be a little uncomfortable. River was now tracing the wear marks in the table, clearly oblivious to everything else.

"So, Simon, Kaylee told me that you were a trauma surgeon on Osiris," began Inara. "Did you work in Capital City?"

"Yes, I did," said Simon, grateful for the change. "In the Joseph Schofield Hospital."

"I am told that the Osiran hospitals are some of the best in the Core," said Inara. "They are renowned for their service."

"Well, we tried," said Simon, a little fond memory in his face. "Have you ever been in one?"

"No, I was raised on Sihnon," said Inara. "My medical experiences were mostly unpleasant there, to tell the truth. And I was only there for checkups—I hesitate to imagine what your experiences were."

"I did not think of them in that matter," said Simon, his face softer than it usually was. "I remember the smiles of patients as they left the recovery ward for good, not the long hours when they were under my hands."

"You liked your job, then," said Zoe. "I had some medical training in the army, but that wasn't my preferred area."

"I don' even like to think about doctorin'," said Kaylee with a shiver.

"Have to agree, Kaylee," said Wash. "I like to see my blood—and others'—right where it should be."

"Well, ain't this purty," came the sarcastic tone of the captain as he strolled in. "Might think you were avoidin' me, doctor, you only come out of your room as soon as I bid to mine." Mal slumped into a chair, leaning back and resting his boots on the table. Inara's lips curled a little, and she scooted her chair rather conspicuously away from them.

Simon said nothing to him, did not even look him in the eyes.

"Best clean up now," said Book, and he rose to gather the dishes.

"Don't throw anything out now, Shepherd," advised Mal. "Warmovers are better than first servings, often."

"You know, Mal, why haven't we hired a cook?" asked Wash, turning to the captain as he spooned some egg and potato mixture to his plate before Book took it away.

"We did plan to, sir," said Zoe, silently putting a napkin by Wash's plate.

"Well, I don't set much by my own plans," said Mal. "Never did plan to get a doctor, you remember."

Simon looked up at this, and the wheels in his mind began to spin again. He was not the only one this was news to, either. "Ha, proof," said Wash around a mouthful of eggs. "See, honey?"

"You may be right, husband," said Zoe, a wry light in her eyes.

"May?" Wash snorted.

"Might one inquire as to the proof I inadvertantly gave?" asked Mal, sitting up straighter.

"Oh nothing, sir," said Zoe flatly. "Just that Wash and I had differing theories on how long you've been missing some of your brain matter."

"You see, Captain," continued Wash, "Zoe reckoned it was a more recent development, when I recognized it from the moment we met."

"Huh," said Mal, leaning back in his chair again.

"You never planned for a medic?" put in Inara. "Really, Mal, I must incline towards Wash's opinion."

"Zoe was fine in a pinch," protested Mal.

"Zoe is grateful to have a real doctor aboard," said Zoe in a meaningful manner.

"Well, I'm sure we all are," said Kaylee.

"Yeah, sure," said Mal. "Y'all have a good reason for not attending to chores?"

"Getting to know the new folk ain't enough?" asked Kaylee, giving Mal her most innocent smile.

"Not for a mean authoritarian like me," said Mal. "Work's got to get done, don't matter who's on board."

Kaylee sighed and rose to help Book with the dishes.

"Back to the wheel, I suppose," said Wash, letting go of his plate with a hint of regret. Zoe and Inara also pushed back their chairs and left, an air of business overtaking the former familial one.

"You'll be required to do chores just like the others, so's you know," Mal said to Simon as he rose to go off himself. "Just not today."

"Of course," said Simon. "I wouldn't want not to pull my own weight."

"With shipboard tasks divided equally among eligible persons, each person will do dishes and cooking every sixth day, laundry every twelfth, and other cleaning responsibilities every eighteenth," said River, looking up and staring at Mal. "The system is flawed; years divide into twelve but months divide into weeks of seven days each, not six. Impractical."

"Yeah," said Mal, shifting slightly uncomfortably, "well, I only got six 'eligible persons' as you say on this boat now."

"You need a cook," stated River. Mal paused, and then exited the diningroom wihout another word.

Simon stood up himself. "Come on, River, let's go."

"No," begged River. "Not safe, Simon. Don't go." She pulled at his hand frantically. "Need to stay and explore."

"We're not leaving the ship, River, just the room," said Simon. "We couldn't go anywhere else anyway, not with the Black out there."

River was quickly calmed by his words. "It takes thirty seconds of exposure to the vacuum of space to induce death," she commented.

"I'm sure it does," sighed Simon.

She pulled his hand. "Explore now, Simon."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"So, how long ya gonna stay here?" asked Kaylee, her legs swinging off the medical table in a slightly nervous fashion as Simon checked her blood for infection.

"I don't know," said Simon. "The captain may change his mind any day, so my plans are still fluid."

"No, I mean how long ya gonna pretend like this infirmary's the whole ship," corrected Kaylee. "'S'like you want to be strangers to us."

"You're all clear," said Simon, turning off the monitor. He glanced over to River, and reached over to take the box of hypodermic needles from her hands. "I don't want River to have an episode in front of the crew," he admitted.

"Wasn't she gettin' better?" asked Kaylee. "She jus' seemed shy and kinda scared."

"Hm, well, I think I know why that was," said Simon. "I've found traces of various drugs in her blood samples, residual traces from the Academy; apparently they remained in circulation while she was in cryo. I don't even know what some of them are," he trailed off, eyes sadly fixed on River. He cleared his throat and continued. "From what I could deduce, the drugs that had the longest effect were those that suppressed some of the symptoms of her psychosis. After she recovered from the cryogenic shock, those drugs kept her somewhat level for another day or two, after which she reverted to her normal state, and perhaps even some withdrawal."

"Ya know, I'll have to tell the Cap'n that I know why he needs Captain Dummy Talk now," said Kaylee with a hint of a grin.

Simon sighed. "In other words, she' been subjected to a series of incredibly inhumane treatments, and we're only now just seeing all the effects."

"It all sounds more real when you say it like that," said Kaylee, her face drooping.

"Don't worry about it," said Simon.

"Why, that's your job?"

"Yes," said Simon with a half-smile. "And that's why we only come out for meals. I don't know much now, and I don't want her to be a danger to the crew." He bit his lip.

"Danger?" said Kaylee incredulously. "She's just different, that's all."

Simon didn't answer. River had been conditioned, for what he did not know, and at this point he was not sure what would trigger her sudden "episodes" or even if there was a trigger.

_It wasn't as bad as he had thought, coming everyday to the dinner table in Serenity, even if he and River were relegated to the end of the table on makeshift stools due to space issues._

"_I said 'So ha!', just like that," said Wash, raising one hand and waggling both eyebrows. Kaylee giggled and Zoe shook her head amusedly. "He froze, I swear, but even under my intimidating stare"—giggling again at the demonstration—"all he said was 'Uh, hi, Hoban.'"_

_Simon chewed slowly on the protein, listening to the story and ignoring the bland taste._

"_Rings around the planets, dust particles drawn by gravity," River muttered next to him, mounding up her protein mush with a spoon much as she used to do with mashed potatoes._

"_And, well, I couldn't turn him in," admitted Wash. "It was too nice to have him owe me."_

_Jayne chuckled lowly. "Gorramit that's what I like—brains."_

"_It's nice to know that people appreciate that which they have not," added Wash, giving Mal cause to suddenly hide his face behind his round glass._

"_Ashes, ashes, they all lie DOWN!" said River, ending with a sharp rise in tone and a downfall of her spoon, breaking apart her protein mountain and sending flecks flying all across the table._

"_River," said Simon hesitantly, reaching over and touching the hand that held the spoon._

"_Ta me da!" cried Jayne, wiping off the protein spots. "What was that."_

"_Lie down, Simon, they want you to," continued River, fighting against his hand on hers._

_Simon kept one eye on the faces watching him, most of their stares not visibly hostile, though Simon thought he could feel it just below the surface. "Come, River, let's take a break."_

"It's not that bad," said Kaylee. "It's just Jayne who minds."

Simon gave her River's favorite look.

"All right, so Jayne and the Cap'n," she amended. "But really, we just need to get used to her quirks, just like you need to get used to ours. When I first came on, and it was Cap'n and Zoe and Wash, and my mouth ran on without me every time I tried to talk for a while. But then it was all fine. You're not doing real bad, catching on."

_Simon had decided that River could dry the dishes—they were wooden and metal, and she had been around them without problems for a couple days now. And as long as he was only a few steps away, she seemed more apt to function stably. It was strange to have his hands in soapy water to wash something other than his hands, but oddly theraputic._

"_It's not hot enough," said River. "Dishes get washed at 6.7 seconds, but take 13.8 seconds for full evaporation." She put down another dish on the towel in the last empty space._

"_Captain Reynolds prefers that we dry by hand if necessary to save on heating water," answered Simon, putting another dish in the rinse water._

"_Have to wash the towels, then," said River. "Energy savings only equivalent to lowering the lights for two minutes."_

"_I know," said Simon. "Just dry the dishes, River." He rinsed off the last dish, and walked over to start putting them away._

_Shepherd Book came in and stirred the protein stew that had been simmering behind them. "Almost boiling," he said. "And, dare I say, almost edible."_

_Simon started putting the dishes away in the cupboards. "That's always nice." He caught sight of his hands and paused, frowning._

"_Dermal permeability caused cells to become bloated with water, Simon," said River._

"_Do you know, we called that 'pruning' when I was young," commented Book as he reached over to ring the dinner bell._

_There was approximately half a ring before Jayne bounded up the stairs. "Well, finally!" He reached for the pot lid, only to withdraw his hand with a small yelp and suck his fingers. "What is it?"_

"_Protein stew," said Book, using a towel to bring it to the table._

"_Sounds good," said Jayne, and walked over to the cupboard._

"_Sounds nondescript," corrected Simon, finding as the days went by that it was hard to ignore the bigger man._

"_Hey! Where's my bowl?" Jayne fumbled around, messing up the neat stacks that Simon had made._

_Kaylee had just come in, and she quickly came over. "Oh, here it is," she said, handing one quickly over._

"_Better learn not to hide my stuff, doctor," said Jayne growling, but choosing to follow the call of his stomach to the table without further action._

"_His bowl?" asked Simon, befuddled._

"_Makes him feel special, I guess," whispered Kaylee. "Anyhow, you watch Jayne eat, you be glad to leave it to him."_

_Simon grimaced and silently saw the logic in that._

"_Just leave it on the right side of the cupboard next time," finished Kaylee._

"_Cock robin," whispered River to Simon with a strange giggle. "Strut, strut, happy in the illusion."_

"_Doctor, did you put my bowl away?" Mal frowned at the cupboard._

"_Oh yeah, an' Cap'n always gets the ceramic one," added Kaylee._

"Catching on...right," said Simon, less than convincingly.

"So, I'm ok now?" said Kaylee, bringing the conversation back to her condition. "And if I need ya to, you can tell that to the Cap'n so he don't tell me to take it easy?"

"I can do that," said Simon with a professional smile.

Kaylee grinned and skipped out, but Simon heard her footsteps halt and faint voice saying, "Jayne, were you eavesdropping?"

A couple seconds later, and Jayne's head came around the corner. He seemed to sniff, and then the rest of his body slowly came in.

"Yes?" asked Simon, drawing himself up from the relaxed position he had been indulging in.

Jayne took a hesitant step in. "What'd you do in here?" he asked suspiciously.

"You must be noticing the cleanliness," said Simon, stepping a little more towards Jayne with his hands clasped behind his back. "It's not a bad concept, really. Some side effects if you get used to it, of course, but favorable ones."

"I didn't come in here for you t' talk me to death," said Jayne with a little growl. "I got a problem."

"Why don't you sit down," said Simon crisply, "and then you can tell me exactly what your problem is."

Jayne sat down on the medical table and drew up one foot. Taking off his shoe and then sock, while Simon remained professionally distant and refrained from inhaling, he revealed a scarred and callous foot. "It's m'big toe," he said, thrusting it towards Simon.

Simon stepped forward, pursing his lips and looking down at it. Jayne's nails were all slightly crooked, but his big toe was a mottled purple and yellow-green, with the nail twisted up at an unpleasant angle. "It hurts, then?"

"Damn right it hurts," said Jayne. "What're ya, stupid? Dropped a box o' cartridges on it, and it swelled up like—"

"Yes, I can see," cut off Simon briskly. He had learned to fear Jayne's colorful metaphors. "The nail was dislodged at the root, but it is still blocking the pooling of blood underneath. If you just wait a moment, I can remove the nail and clean up the area in a matter of minutes."

"Oh no," said Jayne, pulling his foot back. "Just 'cause you're doctor don't mean you got the rights t' chop me up as ya please. You just do what I ask ya to, that's all."

Simon looked up at Jayne's face. "Fine," he said. "The nail will fall off on its own eventually, and I assume you know to clean such an area and keep it covered till the nail regrows."

"Just give me the painkillers, doc," said Jayne.

Simon moved to where River was playing, poured out a couple pills, and gave them to Jayne.

"This ain't enough," he said.

"Waste not," said Simon shortly. "You need more, you can come and get them as you need them. I'll almost always be here."

"You're awful uppity for someone we didn't need until Cap'n lost his brains," growled Jayne.

Simon said nothing, but continued to stand by the counter until Jayne left, whereupon he sighed and rubbed between his eyes.

"And the little one spoke to the big one," came the soft tones of River off to his left. "And he said that he didn't want to play with the other one. Don't be silly, said the big one, I know what's best." Vials of medicines in hand, River looked down on them with wide eyes as they performed the parts of mini-dolls. "I don't belong with him, the little one said. It isn't natural."

"A little dull, isn't it?" said Inara from the hall, looking in on them and smiling. "The last day before we reach planetside, it is as if the crew runs out of things to do."

"I'm not bored," said Simon, but he smiled a little back. "Just—thinking."

"Ah, well, then I won't interrupt you now."

"No, don't. I'm a doctor, I'm used to seeing patients at all times. Is there something you needed?"

Inara paused at the doorway, one hand resting gently on the frame. Then she took a tenative step forward. "Well, yes there is. My prescription ran out, and I wondered if you had enough to last me until we reach Boros tomorrow." She glided across the room and handed him an empty bottle.

Simon looked at it, looked up at Inara, whose face was calmly masked, and said nothing but: "I have an equivalent, if that will do."

"Yes, that will be fine," she said, a little too quickly and with a smile incredibly bright.

Simon retrieved the appropriate bottle from River's collection, and withdrew the proper dosage.

"Thank you, Doctor Tam," said Inara gratefully, smoothly bestowing the medicine in a pocket in the sleeve of her robe. "Your presence is much appreciated, I hope you know."

"You are my third patient today," admitted Simon. "But I'm sure the novelty will wear off."

"Has Mal come to you about that strange mark on the back of his neck?" she asked with a slight wrinkle of her nose.

Simon smiled softly. "Now, Miss Serra, a doctor must protect his patient's confidentiallity."

She smiled back. "Of course. Thank you for your help, and I hope you accomplish what you desire," she added, glancing to River. And like a smooth summer breeze, she was gone with barely a sound.

Simon pulled out his notebook, and the one book he had on neural psychology, and settled down to continue his studies. River seemed to be done with organizing the medicines, and began to shift them around again. The little clinks of bottles touching each other mingled with the hum of the engines as background noise.

The main question in his mind now was, how much of River's current condition was permanent? It was not uncommon for such severe trauma as River had gone through to provoke a brief period of psychosis that, with therapy, could be overcome. Had Simon not heard Dr. Mathias, he would easily have adopted that idea. _Fragmented reality matrix_, he remembered, and something about _neural stripping_. At the time his whole mind had been on the rescue plan, not information gathering—he had known he could not do both—so even now he was not sure how much had been done to River's mind.

Looking over at her, he sighed. Then, a wrinkle in his brow appeared, as he saw the castle that River had created from his medicines as if they were wooden blocks. It was as if she was still the fourteen-year-old girl he remembered at heart—and yet, when she spoke, he sometimes could not even recognize her. His mind told him to tell her that she should play with things that would not break if they fell, and his heart told him not to ruin one of her peaceful moments. There was a war for a moment, and his mouth opened and then shut. His heart claimed the victory.

Simon emerged from the cocoon-like infirmary with River when it was lunch-time, after studying his own notes to death while River took a short nap curled up on the bench. He encouraged her to take naps, as the brighter lights of "day" on the ship seemed to help in keeping nighmares at bay.

Lunch was usually whatever protein concoctions were left over from breakfast and dinner the night before, and though everyone ate at the same time, they made their own dish.

"Hi," said Wash, as they came in. He caught sight of River's flowy red sundress. "You look nice—" he said, surprised and a little hesitant. She stared but did not react, and he relaxed. "Kaylee, didn't you...?"

"Yeah," said Kaylee cheerfully. "And she looks all better than I ever did, don't she? Hey, doctor, this protein stuff tastes pretty good with some of the Shepherd's cloves and cardamum." She beckoned to Simon.

"Thank you, again, for the clothes," said Simon as he served up some food for himself and his sister.

"Don't be silly, I didn't have anything t' do with them," said Kaylee. "Used to like those pretty things, but they got caught on the engine, and I didnt want to muck up my girl."

Jayne came up the stairs in a little, stopping short at the sight of River standing, staring at him with hands clasped behind her back. "Uh," he said, and scooted past.

"River," said Simon, and she turned and came closer to the counter.

"She always knows what y'mean, when all you say is 'River' in that tone," commented Kaylee. "S'that some sort of sibling language I missed?"

Simon thought about it for a moment. "I don't know," he said simply. He picked up the two plates he had just served, and walked over to the table. River grabbed chopsticks and followed, murmuring under her breath.

Kaylee took a bite of her food again, and half-skipped to the table where Inara had just settled, a cup of tea in her hand. "Can't wait till we get to Boros," she said.

"Mm, yes, it will be nice to be on solid ground again," said Inara. "Will you shop for any new parts?"

"Naw, Serenity's doin' right shiny now. I got somethin' else on my mind to spend my share on."

"Oh, I see," said Inara knowingly, leaning over and chuckling.

"You didn't guess, did you?" asked Kaylee incredulously.

"Strawberries," said Inara with a smile.

"I've no clue how you do that," said Kaylee, shaking her head. "I haven't splurged in so long, Nara," she continued excitedly. "It'll be like Christmas."

"You deserve it after all that's happened," said Inara warmly.

Jayne sat at the end of the table, quietly shoveling his food into his mouth. Book sat by him, equally quiet, but with a different air about him. "You gettin' off at Boros?" asked Jayne suddenly.

"I haven't decided," mused Book. "I'm not sure that's where my journey ends."

Jayne grunted and turned back to his food. Book watched him for a moment, smiled to himself a little, and ate some more.

Mal came in, rubbing his hands together in a satisfied manner. "Well, well, well, travelers, Boros'll be slipping up our horizon by tomorrow morning, and it'll be afternoon planetside. Mark your schedules."

"We got a new contact?" asked Zoe.

"A decent one," Mal confirmed. "Rather well-to-do, a few quirks in the brainpan, if reputation is true."

"Our sort, then," said Zoe.

"Yeah, that seems about so," said Mal. "Jayne, you'll be coming along. Meeting place's pretty far from the dock, so we'll be takin' the shuttle."

"Aw, Mal, I had plans," protested Jayne.

"It's a short job, you can make it up next world," said Mal firmly.

Jayne glared, and Simon watched from where he and River sat in the corner. Once again the thought went through his mind, though not out loud, what exactly Jayne's position was on the ship in relation to Mal. There was a strange dynamic to this crew all across the board, though, and Simon wondered if he and River were to become the ignored ones. As long as River was calm, he got only token notice from everyone but Kaylee and Shepherd Book. At the moment, though, Simon was quite fine with that.

"You have errands on Boros?" Simon was jerked out of his thoughts by Mal.

"Yes," said Simon shortly.

"Don't go too far," advised Mal before walking off.

"Right," muttered Simon under his breath. Lunch was soon over, and it was back to the infirmary until dinner, and then once again to bed. Simon looked at his notebook at the end of the day, and thought that he had never had a day so uneventful. River had not even had an episode.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Simon woke suddenly and sat up without thinking. He had slept too long—the past near-week had already trained his body to the schedule of being woken every few hours by one of River's nightmares. And now, as he got up and opened her door, he saw why he had remained asleep.

"River?" came his voice, slightly hoarse after just waking, but concerned all the same. Yesterday she had hidden under her bed, but she never failed to answer when he called. And there was no answer.

Throwing on a shirt and trousers, he left the room in search of her. It was late in the morning, and the ship was alert. This was bad, this was very bad.

He moved swiftly through the lounge and checked in the infirmary, then went up to the kitchen, pausing only to ask Kaylee and Book as inconspicuously as possible if they had seen River. He hid his worry at their negative responses, and ignored Jayne's comment from across the room of "Girl was creepin' around my bunk last night, doc, n' I don't want it happenin' again," then went up to the bridge and then down to the cargo area. She was nowhere.

"River?" he called in the cargo bay, and it echoed slightly.

"Is something wrong?" asked Inara, just leaving her shuttle.

"I can't find River," he confessed, holding back the desperation in his tone.

"She can't have gone anywhere," said Inara, reassuringly. "Did you try the other shuttle?"

Simon at once turned and went up the stairs two at a time. "River," he called, as he struggled for a moment to get the shuttle door to open. The door finally slid aside to reveal what Simon had hoped for and been afraid of.

"Oh no, mei mei," he murmured, coming forward to kneel and wrap his arms around her as she knelt on the floor. She was shaking and breathing frantically, eyes wild and not teary, hands buried deep in her tangled hair.

"Rabbit holes," she gasped, neither fighting nor resting in his arms, but almost ignoring his very presence. "A safe trap, doors look as many but lead to only one," she rambled on, her breathing fast and jerky. "They'll come, he'll let them come." She let out a scream, half-hoarse but horrifying, and began to struggle violently.

"River, River, mei mei," he said, holding her close so that she was only hurting him. She arched back and struck at him, eyes darting back and forth, breaths coming like gasping sobs. "Mei mei, it's all right, I'm here." Still she struggled, fighting back with a strength he could only match because of recent events. "River, it's Simon, your brother. You're safe, you're safe, mei mei." She let out a final pained cry, and then sunk down to her knees again.

Simon gathered her closer, resting her head on his shoulder while she trembled as the adrenaline still coursed through her veins. "Oh, mei mei," he murmured brokenly. What was this, some form of punishment for yesterday's calm? Was she now to pay for every lucid moment with paranoid terror? God, how could anyone have faith in anything in a world where such justice lived?

"No, no, don't want to go," cried River as he tried to help her to stand.

"Please, River," persuaded Simon quietly, keeping his arm securely around her. "You haven't slept all night, and it is cold up here. We need to go back."

She protested, babbling on in words that meant nothing to Simon, but perhaps in some corner of her mind she knew what he was doing and made no struggle as he took gentle steps towards the door.

The crew was filling up the cargo bay, talking, Wash and Kaylee prepping the mule, Jayne making sure Kaylee knew what he wanted along with the new supplies. Inara's shuttle was just leaving. Simon and River moved hastily down the stairs, catching the sight of all, but attention of none. River looked at them all as she always did, and let out a small cry of fear that Simon could not place, but then she pulled more towards the infirmary, which he was glad to comply with. Shepherd Book was just leaving his chamber, and followed them in.

"Need help, son?"

Simon didn't respond at first as he helped River sit, and left her for a moment to find a sedative. "Things are worse today." He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you think that drugging her will make it better?" asked Book gravely.

"No, it won't make it better," said Simon bitterly. "Nothing can do that. But I am not going to let her cause harm to herself because I do not know yet what medicines will be more effective." He paused as he tried to calm River, stroking her back and murmuring, "It's time to rest again," as he quietly gave her the injection. She lay back, a tear running down her cheek, still shivering a little. Simon turned again to Book, indignant. "Do you think I want this?"

"Take it as a warning, not an accusation," said Book quietly. "I know what it's like, to have the power to do what you think is best for someone, and sometimes you forget that you are dealing with someone's life. She cannot be sedated forever."

Simon sat wearily down, resting his forehead in the palm of one hand.

"You had errands to run today, did you not?" asked Book.

"Yes," said Simon. "I did not think of what I should do with River, though."

"Leave her to me," said Book, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No, I—I don't want to keep you from where you need to go," said Simon, rubbing his brow.

"I'm not going anywhere," said Book smiling.

"Really?"

"I discussed it with the Captain, and surprisingly he has allowed me to stay on for another trip," said Book. "I didn't feel that this was where my journey should end." Simon didn't say anything. "She's asleep, and there are radios to keep in touch. Go. Get what you need."

"Right," said Simon, breathing out slowly. He took his datapad from the counter and paused to look at River.

"We'll be fine," assured Book.

Simon nodded, and turned to go back into the cargo bay. Mal and Zoe had just left in the second shuttle, and Kaylee was talking to Wash by the mule.

"Y' coming?" she asked as Simon came over.

"Yes," said Simon. "Shepherd Book is watching River for me. Do you know where I could find medical supplies here?"

"Come on," said Kaylee, beckoning for Simon to get on the mule.

In many ways, Boros wasn't as bad as Simon had predicted—it wasn't particularly crime-ridden to the casual eye, and the odors and sights were primitive but not to a huge extent. Unfortunately, this was due to the thing that was worse than Simon's predictions: the Alliance presence. They kept the streets clear and clean, to be sure—and police officers were stationed every couple blocks. It had escaped Simon's mind when choosing a destination that this planet had supported Independence and had a more concentrated Alliance presence now; at that time he had not come to grips with his new criminal status, and thought of the Alliance as protection against the unsavory parts of human nature.

Now he was distracted by everything—he was not yet comfortable with people begging for money or offering services he had no desire for, and he felt tension at each officer of the law, no matter if they gave him a glance or not. He tried to keep an eye on the streets they turned on, in case they ever came back here. After a couple of minutes on the mule, Kaylee stopped.

"This is probably where you'll find what y'need," she said, wrinkling her nose a bit. "Normally Zoe gets those things."

"Thanks," said Simon, scrambling off the mule with his bag.

"I'll pick ya up at the bar when I'm done," she said, indicating a building nearby. "Have fun!" Then she was off, before Simon had time to request a more neutral meeting place.

This store had a sign that said "Clothing and Medical", and Simon had to scratch his head at that before straightening his coat and walking inside.

* * *

"Lady Tembriar?" asked Zoe.

"Neglect the ear-cleaning, or is that the tone of incredulity?" answered Mal, pushing buttons in a manner that appeared random, though the right controls turned on.

"Just wondering who you were contacting who would hear about this job," answered Zoe, strapping a gun to her boot.

"Didn't have to. I'm to understand hiring independent contractors is considered an act of charity among the highbow."

"An open Independent sympathizer on Boros?"

"No, just a small business supporter," corrrected Mal, detaching from his ship with only a little bit of a wobble.

"Sounds safe enough," Zoe admitted.

"As I said, quirky, not suspicious."

"I like to make my own assessments, sir, that's all."

"I don't know, all Mal's bosses are kinda unsavory," muttered Jayne from the back, where he was sulking a bit about having to come along on this one. Mal was thankful he was mostly silent about it.

Mal hovered a little before turning to the right and pressing on the accelorator. There was a moment where the only sound was the exciting rush of the engines, and Mal stroked the wheel of his darling little ship, content now that things were back to normal. The ground began to fly beneath them.

And then there was silence. "What the—" started Mal, as the shuttle began to fall from the sky.

* * *

Simon felt a little out of place in the small store, but as the long-haired store owner stood up straight and brushed his jacket down, he gained a little confidence.

"Good morning, sir," the man said, coming forward with arms spead welcomingly. "Your desires are mine."

"Um, right," said Simon, losing his thought for a moment. "How well stocked are you on medical supplies?"

"The store is yours, young sir. You have but to speak the word, and the product will be before your eyes." The wide smile, the hands palms up, the cheerful tone—it was all rather odd to Simon, but somewhat reassuring.

"This is what I'm looking for," he said, bringing up his datapad and showing it to the man.

"Oh," said the shopkeeper, drawing out that one syllable to change its meaning several times. "Well, well, sir, just come this way." He walked down one of the aisles, Simon following. "The stars foretold your coming and had me purchase just what you need. All the medicines you will find down there, and here we have the latest product from Blue Sun, their blue latex surgical gloves, surely to fit the needs of just such a person as you."

Simon took a box from the shelf and flipped it over. "These are not hypoallergenic," he said.

"Oh, of course," said the man, and pointed to another box. "You know what you are about, sir. These are a generic brand, but high quality, of course."

"Hmm, yes," said Simon. He listed off a few more items, and then walked to the other aisled and began calculating the prices of the medicines he wanted.

"Do you need help?" asked the shopkeeper with wide smile.

"No," said Simon slowly, making a last minute decision between the extra bottle of isoprovaline and the hydrozepam. He decided for the isoprovaline. "I think this will do."

"Do you have any clothing needs?" asked the man, beckoning across a few aisles to where clothing racks lined the walls.

"Um, yes, actually," said Simon, wrinkling his brow.

"As I said, your wish was already anticipated," exclaimed the shopkeeper, almost a bounce in his step as he led Simon over.

"How did—why have both clothing and medical supplies?" asked Simon as he began flipping through the warm leggings and sweaters.

"I shall share a secret with you, good sir," said the man, drawing a little too close for Simon's comfort. "Good business."

"Really," said Simon flatly, shifting away and looking closely at a coral sweater that he found particularly ugly.

"Transports come through this part of town," explained the man. "My brother owns the food and mechanics store, for those who are just stocking up on necessities. But after a long long journey, or for those making the first step, they will think about those necessities that are not so obvious. My existence justified."

"I see," said Simon. He had to admit that it made sense, but he wasn't interested in a conversation. He let his hand rest on some flannel socks. It could get cold on Serenity, and River was so thin. He took a few pair, as well as some half leggings and a couple sweater-like overgarments.

"Not this one?" asked the shopkeeper, disappointedly holding out the more expensive coral sweater.

Simon cringed at the sight. "Ah—" he began.

"It is not for you, but for a young lady?" prompted the man.

"Of course," said Simon hastily.

"She does not like this color?"

"Actually—" Actually, River loved bright colors. Simon lived in the neutral and the cool tones, but he knew in that instant that River would adore that sweater. It had a ragged design to it as well, which he was sure she would find interesting. Somehow all her tactile tendencies had been multiplied a hundredfold since the Academy. "Yes, thank you, I will tak that also," he said.

"Good!" cried the man, grinning wider than Simon would have thought possible. "And now, to the counter!"

Simon paid up his credits, about half of what he had left, and the shopkeeper began wrapping the medicines in soft insulation. "Shall I wrap the sweater as a present?" he asked. "Only seven bits more."

"No, that's all right," said Simon. He took up his purchase bags and left, making his way to the tavern, where he sat in the most deserted corner for what seemed like an hour.

"Have fun?" came a cheery voice to Simon's ears. He had put his head in his hands as the smoke and noise had steadily worn on his nerves, but looked up now.

"I have what I need," he answered.

"Good! So do I, so we can go now."

Simon got up almost eagerly, and they began driving back to the ship.

* * *

"You all right, Zoe?" asked Mal, coughing up some dust.

"A bit bruised, that's all," said Zoe, shrugging her shoulders as her neck cracked.

"What th' hell happened?" moaned Jayne, regretting not being seated as the shuttle half-soared half-tumbled to the sands just outside Boros.

"Not a mechanic, sir, but I believe that was a stall," said Zoe.

"Yeah, but why? Loaded with fuel, it shouldn't do that." Mal flipped a few controls. "Says we don't have fuel."

Zoe checked the fuel gauge herself. "We do," she said, and then looked at another gauge on the dashboard. "It's just not getting to the engine. Someone's reset the fuel tube to deliver a slow supply of fuel, for a long space journey, not a short flight."

"Gorramit, I thought you said Kaylee could only do small changes," growled Jayne.

"It wasn't Kaylee," said Mal, eyes darkening. "She knew we needed the shuttle today. And, she wasn't up in the shuttle." He noticed something white on the bare grey floor, and stooped to pick it up. His brow narrowed. "Let's get back to the ship."

* * *

Simon hurried to the infirmary as soon as Kaylee stopped the mule. River was still sleeping soundly, and Book smiled at him.

"Worried?"

"Yes," answered Simon, half embarrassed.

"You need to learn to relax," said Book, putting down his Bible and sitting up.

"Thank you for watching her," said Simon, as he began to unload his purchases.

"It was no trouble," answered Book, standing to help Simon by unwrapping each bottle. "Sterizing equipment," he commented, glancing at the other bags. "I feel safer already."

"It's amazing they survived this long," said Simon, loading the boxes of gloves, needles, and ready-made doses of certain medicines into his drawers.

Book chuckled, and Simon looked back over his bags. One was missing, and he went back to the cargo bay and found the one with River's special package in the mule. He heard a few steps behind, and then turned around to catch a magnificent punch to the right jaw.

Simon went flying backwards, River's brown-paper-wrapped sweater landing several feet away. "What? he managed, blinking his eyes as the stars faded, and looking up into the furious face of Malcolm Reynolds. He rose to his feet.

"You ain't got much in the way of brains, top 3 aside," said Mal, his right hand clenching by his hip. "If you had, you'd have waited to modify my shuttle to steal until after we used it and had a near brush with the angel of death."

"What are you implying, Captain?" asked Simon, his hairs bristling in indignation. "I haven't touched your shuttle."

Mal thrust a handkerchief in his face. "S. T. Fancy white lace. Even Jayne could decipher those signs. You were trying to steal my shuttle—or kill me."

"Don't be ridiculous," remarked Simon. "I didn't go anywhere—oh no," he sighed.

"Memory returned?" Mal asked dryly.

Simon brought his hand up to his face, rubbing across his eyes as a little weariness returned. "River was up there this morning, terrified about something. She—I don't think she feels safe here."

"So it was little genius, then," said Mal, his ire dropping a couple notches. "I thought I told you to keep her in check."

"She sleepwalked," defended Simon sharply. "I can't control that. I'll tell her to stay away from the shuttle, though."

"I'd be obliged," said Mal in a tone that belied the civility of his words.

"So'd he do it?" asked Jayne, walking in and seeming disappointed to see Simon still standing.

"No, it was River," said Zoe. "She didn't mean any harm."

Jayne frowned, and wandered off to his bunk grumbling.

"Don't let this happen again," said Mal, the anger gone from his tone, and walked off himself.

"Kaylee's going to drive out and fix things up," said Zoe, coming back. "We'll have to make the deal tomorrow, though."

Simon sighed and returned to the infirmary. Things were going so _well_, weren't they


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Simon spent the rest of the day watching over River—he sometimes wondered if he would ever feel comfortable leaving her alone. Their lives, so unstable now, might suddenly move into utter chaos, and he did not feel he could afford not being on the alert if it happened. It was different at the hospital, where machines and assistants kept him constantly alert on the progress of his patients. Now he had only one, but he was the only one who could help her.

Simon dozed a little, letting his head rest on his chest in a manner he found uncomfortable upon waking. In his dreams he heard voices, calling out to him to come and join them, and when he woke he was not sure who he heard calling. From above he heard interesting noises: the constant sound of the engine, the trills of laughter occasionally, the deep rumble of voices telling long stories, the clinks and thumps of chairs and equipment shifting around. Then River woke, her eyes still blurry.

"Simon?" she asked, fearfully quiet.

"Everything's all right," he assured, holding her hand in his.

"Frightened," she said. "Heard voices in the dark."

"You had nightmares," explained Simon, marking that she was finally acknowledging her troubles.

"Don't want to sleep again," she said, shivering a little. "Don't want to let them in."

"I know," said Simon. "But you have to sleep—you have to sleep sometimes until I can help you get better, until I can help stop the nightmares."

"How long will it take?" she asked, miserable and resigned.

Simon squeezed her hand. "Not long," he lied, not knowing what else to say. "I—I have something for you."

As he reached over for the package, River slowly sat up. "Shopping," she said, a faint smile on her face.

"Yes," said Simon, smiling. "I bought some things to keep you warm, and this."

River took the package from him, brushing the brown paper with her fingertips. Then she slowly removed the paper to reveal the sweater. Simon waited, a little nervous as she said and revealed nothing. She held it up so that the light came through the tiny holes, and then suddenly hugged it close to her.

"Do you like it?" asked Simon.

She nodded, playing with the tassles on the ends of the sleeve. "Warmth—and love," she said. "A good color."

"I'm glad," said Simon, thinking that the sweater looked a little less ugly in the lighting on the ship.

"You have medicines now," added River. "Ready to go, if we have to?"

"Go, yes, we're leaving the planet soon," said Simon. "But River, we're not leaving the ship, not yet. Don't you remember, you said it was our little home."

"You didn't believe me," she answered. "You want to be ready."

"River, you were the one who modified the shuttle, right?" Simon had no doubts, but he wanted to hear her answer.

"Just made it ready," she said, a little confused.

"Well, the captain needed that," said Simon, gently reproving. "You shouldn't have touched it without permission. Something bad could have happened."

"It won't happen," said River, almost as a promise.

"Good," said Simon. "Just don't go near the shuttles, and you'll be all right." He paused. "I also got you some socks."

River frowned. "Don't like socks. Can't feel anything."

"Hm, well, you don't want to feel the chill though. It gets cold up in space."

"There is no cold," River said with a little sigh, and she brought up her knees to rest her chin on. "It's the absence of heat."

Simon gave her the equal parts of smile and sigh that he had always given when she corrected him, and then noticed how tangled her hair was, not brushed since yesterday evening. He brought a comb from his pocket and, sitting next to the table, began carefully untangling the ends.

It was too quiet.

"Do you remember when we went up in the mountains three years ago," he murmured, not really expecting a response and so not waiting for it. "Mom told you to stay within the camp site so you would keep clean, and the first thing you did was climb one of the trees and get sap and pine needles everywhere, and it made your hair stick out all over the place so that you had to scrub it in the icy stream water. I don't think they ever believed it was an accident."

He had gotten the lower tangles out, and began gently working at the larger ones in the middle. "Dad made a great fire that night, and then we roasted marshmallows, and you took yours and heated them until they got warm and sticky and then made them into a sort of snowman. Then you lit it on fire when he wasn't looking. I thought I would have bald eyebrows for the rest of the trip. And then Mom and Dad tried to tell you how dangerous that was, and how it could have burned something important, and you kept trying to tell them that you had taken account of the wind and height of the flames before you had lit it. It—It sounds more believable now."

Simon paused, frowning as he realized at the same time that there was one very tough tangle in River's hair and that these experiences were the only ones he would ever have of the like. "I-I don't remember what we did after that. Just that we had to turn back after getting halfway home because one of my medical books was left behind."

"You left," said River.

"Yes, I went back to school after that," said Simon, glad not to be talking to himself. "Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject.

She shook her head, and he continued combing. "Do you want to do something? I have books, and pencils and paper, and music."

"Drawing," she said, a softness in her face that was as close to a smile as he got now.

"That sounds good to me too," he said warmly, running his fingers through her hair to get out the last of the tangle.

Simon didn't know how long River drew as he wrote—hours flowed endlessly and yet all in a minute out in the black. There was not even a clock to judge by. River used much of his paper, sketching this and that, filling each piece with lines and shading. He didn't notice what she drew, caught up in his own worries and struggles to find connections in the facts he recorded. Eventually he looked up and noticed Kaylee watching them from the doorway.

"It's all so quiet down here," she said, and then added, "Shuttle's fixed. She didn't do no damage to it, just reprogrammed it."

"I'm glad of that," said Simon.

"She ever been in a Firefly afore?" Off Simon's look, she answered her own question. "No, I guess not. Just gifted is all, like ya said."

"There never was a computer that she couldn't understand," said Simon, apologetically with a little shrug.

"D'ya think we upset her?" asked Kaylee suddenly.

"No," began Simon. "Well—I just don't—I have very little evidence to—but no, I don't think so."

"They were talkin' about that, up there," said Kaylee. "You 'n' River come up, an' things are ok, and then something goes wrong, and you disappear down here f'r hours. You think it's them as are causin' it, they guess." She twisted her hands a little. "Don' wanna tell on anyone or nothing, but it got me kinda worried."

"It couldn't be the crew," said Simon, turning in his seat to face her. "It has to be something less obvious for it to be a realistic trigger. It's just—I know there's nothing in the quiet that can upset her." He frowned, tapping his pen. "I don't know what else to do."

"She's all right around you, right?" ventured Kaylee hopefully. "Cause you're family."

"I'm familiar to her, at least," said Simon, a little hesitantly.

"So maybe if you let her around us after she's calmed down, she might see us—" Kaylee stopped as Simon felt himself tense. "Well, it'd be nice to see ya more," she added, stumbling slightly. "We ain't afraid of her."

"We—can come up more," said Simon, trying to shake off the stiffness he had felt when he thought she would say the word 'family'.

"Good," said Kaylee, smiling nervously, and then turning to leave.

Simon began tapping his pen to the paper again, not thinking about anything. The murmur of voices came drifting down the stairs and through the floor again. He decided that he didn't like feeling like the naughty one banished to the basement. Kaylee was right, in a way.

River looked up. "Almost dinner," she said.

* * *

"Don't take shuttles for granted," said Mal, as the sun blazed off the landing platform and right through his windshield. There was a little jerk as they landed, and Mal let out a breath. "That's good advice, Zoe."

"I'll remember to write it down," answered Zoe. "They're expecting us, I assume?"

"Called her yesterday," said Mal. "She seemed almost a might tickled at our predicament; said it would be fine to reschedule."

"That's just wrong," said Jayne.

"Won't disagree with the general sentiment," said Zoe. "Quirks, you said."

"Quirks," said Mal. "And might I remind you that one of them is no late fees? Good job, it'll pay well."

"Let's get movin', then," said Zoe. "Jayne, follow behind, and don't let your gun be too conspicuous. This is more a mansion than a blackout zone."

"Why'd ya bring me along anyway," growled Jayne, but Mal noticed that his gun was tucked in the back of his belt—there was only one, too.

"Tactics," murmured Mal, as the three strolled up to the door.

The sun shone brightly off the metallic exterior of the fine house, set a fair distance from the town where it overlooked the brush plains of this part of Boros, and they all squinted a little at the glare. The design was wavy, overly abstract, and expensive, with large windows plainly to be seen on most of the walls. The security guards were dressed in silver—thankfully not metallic—in a style more smart than traditional Alliance uniforms.

"Malcolm Reynolds and cohorts," said one guard as they approached. "My lady has given you leave to enter."

"Sounds good," said Mal, though turning to mouth 'cohorts?' to Zoe. She shrugged and said nothing. "Might we be escorted to her now?"

"No need, she has given you full freedom on her property," said the guard. "Walk straight and take two lefts. She is waiting for you."

"Right," said Mal. He paused, waiting for something more. It didn't come. He walked on, through something that was more an arch than a door, following the directions.

"Right," added Zoe more suspiciously when the security guards were behind them.

"Just—flow with it," advised Mal. "Jayne, not a word."

After going down the corridors, and wondering among such curves whether they had really taken a "left", they came to what looked more grand than anything else.

"Must be this," said Mal.

Automatically the doors opened, and they felt a slight breeze as they walked into a room that might have been mistaken for an art museum, but with windows opened wide to let in the air. Lady Tembriar came forward, her shimmering grey dress tinkling from the thousands of little silver hangings sewn on all the edges and her several long necklaces.

"Welcome," she said, smiling wider than Kaylee. "Sit, please, and drink of the tea that has been prepared for you." She giggled a little. "How quaint, you are, and so perfect. Sit, sit!"

Zoe eyed Mal, and they both sat. Jayne stood behind them, apparently trying not to fidget.

"You don't take tea, I suppose," Lady Tembriar said conspiratorially. "But I couldn't really serve anything else—wouldn't be genteel. There's a limit for everything."

"You have a job for us, ma'am?" asked Mal, holding one of the teacups, even if uncomfortably.

"Straight to business, then," said Lady Tembriar brightly, giggling a little. "How wonderful! It's a simple job, really. My husband just left for Greenleaf, and he was so thoughtless to leave all his things behind. I thought I'd suprise him and send them before he realizes they're gone, what do you think?" She leaned forward, smiling expectantly.

"Very thoughtful of you, ma'am," said Zoe, filling in while Mal merely blinked.

"Greenleaf, then," said Mal. "Fair ways from here, it'll be a nice trip."

"Yes, I'm sure it will be lovely," said Lady Tembriar. She giggled again. "It's so nice that you brought your weapons, and hidden, too. Such an air!"

"Glad—you—approve," said Mal, not as smoothly as he would have liked.

"What a lovely experience this will be," she mused. "Well, the goods are all ready for you, and I will send a message to my husband with the bill we discussed. That businesslike enough for you?"

"Quite satisfactory, ma'am," said Mal, rising and giving a stilted little bow.

Lady Tembriar rose and smiled. "Good! So good."

"We'll just take a look at the cargo, then, and we'll be back to pick it up this afternoon," said Mal.

"Just out in the back," said Lady Tembriar. "I'll see you again, some time, maybe."

Mal gave a crooked little grin, and turned to leave. Zoe followed silently, and Jayne also, after glancing suspiciously around.

"Quirky, right," was all that Zoe said as they walked out to see the goods.

* * *

Simon had not slept quite as easily that night, and was easily woken when River had a nightmare. She only had one, though, and words were enough to soothe her fears. She wouldn't speak to him, only scream and cry, and sometimes her mouth would move wordlessly. The routine was becoming familiar, but Simon hoped that the terror in her eyes never would. He was plagued with restless sleep after that, but though nothing that he could name as a nightmare befell him, his mind consciously created enough horrors. These could not be ordinary nightmares, he felt, and yet so they might easily have been—if Simon had not known how easily they could be crafted.

River stayed in her room the whole night, but though he left her for a moment asleep while he washed up when morning came, he returned to his chamber to find her crouched at the end of his bed. At least it was better than the shuttle.

"Ready for breakfast?" he asked.

"Hungry," she admitted, standing up.

"That's good," he said, smiling. "Come on."

It was extremely quiet as they walked up the stairs, and Simon's heart started to race a little. There was no one in the dining room. There was little sign that anyone had been there. And worse, there was no noise coming from anywhere in the ship.

"Food, Simon," said River, pulling him to the counter.

"Yes, River—wait!" He glanced around nervously, his mind busily going over all the possibilities. They wouldn't have left for the job without leaving someone behind. Unless the contact had gone wrong, and they had needed help, and no one had thought to warn him. Or something else, or—

"It's amazing how quickly the loss of an annoyance breeds discomfort," came the most relaxing thing Simon could have imagined. "You look worried at the idea of peace and quiet," said Shepherd Book.

"He can't be alone," said River, who had taken some protein on a plate while Simon's thoughts had been elsewhere.

"Ah, the crew are gone," said Book. "I was meditating and so blocked out other sounds—I didn't notice when they finally vanished."

"You don't suppose there was some trouble, and they forgot to warn us," said Simon, his brow deeply furrowed. "Why would they leave no one behind?"

"Oh, we're sorry," came Kaylee, quickly hopping down the stairs that led to the hall to the bridge, Wash on her heels. "We're so used to having the ship to ourselves when the others are gone."

"Terrible, terrible hosts," added Wash.

Simon relaxed visibly, and joined River at the table. "We just got up," he said.

"This'll be kinda nice," said Kaylee after a moment's silence. "Most times Wash 'n' I just play with Serenity's parts or talk mechanic stuff unless Inara's here, which ain't too often, and then we play chess or dominos or somethin'."

"In other words we just laze around being dreadfully bored and wondering why we took this job," said Wash. "Unless Jayne's here, and then we ask him why he took this job just to stay behind on the ship. Key word: dull."

"Why did you, then?" asked Book. "Do you have ties to the Captain?"

"No, thank goodness, no," said Wash quickly, with a laugh. "My wife does, though, and being in the action with Mal all the time leaves her unappreciative of how boring it can get on a little transport ship like this."

"You don't have hobbies?" asked Book.

"Well, yeah," said Kaylee. "But they involve other people. Me 'n' Wash can't exactly do much by ourselves. But there's no difference now, since you'll always be stayin' behind with us."

"Right," said Wash, taking a seat. "So, doc, you wouldn't happen to play chess? Kaylee just won't learn."

"Um, yes, I play," said Simon, looking up from his breakfast. "It was a family tradition, I used to play with my dad. He was brilliant; even now—" Simon paused and swallowed. "Even recently I won only as many times as I lost," he finished, almost darkly.

"You should play Inara," said Wash. "I'm good—but she usually beats me. That is, I let her beat me," he added.

Kaylee chuckled. "'Course, Wash. I never could catch on t' that game. You play, Shepherd?"

"Perhaps occasionally," said Book wryly. "The Abbey also had little action to distract from the mundane. I found many other ways to keep busy, which sometimes included games."

"Only sometimes," commented Wash, leaning forward. "What else? A desparate man asks you, Shepherd."

Book laughed, a laugh that Simon had noticed would break any barriers in the tone of conversation. "Oh I gardened, meditated, lifted weights, sang, read, wrote, drew, aided the poor—what would you find most interesting?"

"What did you read?" asked an interested Simon, at the same time as Kaylee asked, "You can sing?"

"I can," said Book, smiling at Kaylee. "I sang many a song as we worked—you have time to perfect more artistic talents in an abbey, and that was my favorite."

"Oh, we have so little music here," said Kaylee with a sigh. "Jayne has a guitar, but he only pulls it out when he thinks no one's paying attention. Inara prob'ly has music, but I always assumed it'd be something professional and didn't want to inconvenience her."

"I have some music," put in Simon.

Kaylee looked at him with a hopeful smile. "Really?"

"River's dance music," he said. "I brought it for her—not much, I didn't have space. But if you want—" He looked up to see Kaylee's face lit up, and smiled a little.

"That's great," she said. "I didn't know River danced."

"Yes, it was her favorite," said Simon, looking down to where River was intently eating.

"Don't suppose you were ever into computers, then, Shepherd?" asked Wash with very little hope. "I remember that was all I could ever get into. Books? Not so much."

"I've no help there," said Shepherd apologetically. "I dearly loved a good book. Followed one for my whole life, even."

"Did you read mostly religious texts?" asked Simon.

"No, I read philosophy, and some classics from Earth-That-Was—Shakespeare was a favorite."

"'O brave new world/That has such people in't'," quoted Simon. "I remember my tutor having me learn that—said it was ironic, as we never discovered new worlds, just created them."

"Wise man," commented Book.

"Shakespeare," mused Wash. "That was the fellow who said that long speech about indecision—to be or not to be? A girl in school told me it should be my mantra, that's why I know it."

"It doesn't seem to fit," mused Book.

"Oh, it did then," assured Wash.

"Didn't want to fly," came River, not looking up from her food.

"No, I didn't, actually," said Wash, surprised. "Made up my mind, though, after the first sim."

"Did you bring any books with you?" Book asked Simon. "The library was the only physical possession I ever coveted and did not care to leave behind."

"Mostly medical books and an encyclopedia," admitted Simon. "I didn't read much other than that. But I have a few other books that River and I read together."

"Utopia," said River with a soft half-smile.

Simon eyes rolled a fraction. "Yes, that one."

Kaylee laughed. "This ain't bad at all—Shepherd brought food, you brought music and books."

"That encyclopedia of yours," added Wash to Simon, "is electronic, right?"

Simon nodded, and Wash grinned. "Notice any problems I could mess with?"

"I suppose I could think of a couple," said Simon thoughtfully.

"Or make some up, that'd be fine too," said Wash cheerily. "Great!"

"Wanna play checkers?" asked Kaylee to Book.

"I surely would—it's been a long time since I played, though, so you might have to go easy on me," said Book with a grin.

Kaylee got up and went to one of the cupboards. "Don't worry, Shepherd, I ain't that good—like to play more than win."

"Should I get some music, then?" asked Simon.

"Yes," said River, eagerly, which was all he reallly needed.

"And could I have a look at that encyclopedia?" asked Wash.

So Simon brought up his small music player and his encyclopedia, and soon strains of folk music were having River sway back and forth as she nibbled at breakfast, while Simon was interested but overwhelmed at the information Wash was giving him about the operating system of his encyclopedia, and Kaylee and Book talked quietly over a loved and worn checker board. The quiet was gone, but as Book had said, peace and quiet were not always as wanted as we thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Mal appeared surprised as he exited the shuttle to the almost distant buzz of violins and the trill of flute, followed quickly by Kaylee's bright laugh. He took a couple steps forward, and his mouth twisted as the thought crossed his mind that he recognized that piece.

"Gorramit, they've gone and made us all civilized," commented Jayne disgustedly.

Zoe merely made a noise that sounded more satisfactory than not, and walked down the steps into the cargo bay.

No one in the kitchen looked up as the other crew members came in, but whether it was intentional ignoring or distraction was not obvious. Jayne was never one to stand around, and marched past it all with a grunt to sit down and watch Kaylee set up the pieces for another game of checkers, though Book had apparently gone to take some rest.

At the same time, Mal spoke: "Ahem? The job, folks?"

"Oh, right," said Wash, looking up from where he had Simon's encyclopedia in several pieces on the kitchen table. "So sorry, Captain, for entertaining ourselves instead of waiting patiently until your newest order came in."

"We got ourselves a pickup," said Mal, ignoring that. "The cargo's waiting, and there's a landing platform—bit oddly shaped, but I trust your skills."

"Back to work then," said Wash. "Party's over, folks." He rose with a little sigh and headed for the door.

"Didn't say that," said Mal, almost protesting but not quite.

"How big a cargo, Cap'n?" asked Kaylee, putting away the board despite Mal's words.

"Big," said Mal. "In fact, we'll need to clear up some leftover business so as not to have the goods mix. Doc, your cryo box will need to find a new home."

"I see," said Simon, attempting to reassemble his encyclopedia, a slightly overwhelmed hopelessness on his face.

"Why didn't y' sell it on Boros?" asked Kaylee, stepping in out of pity to tidy up Wash's leavings and hand the new and improved encyclopedia to Simon.

"Ah—" began Simon, and then words failed him. There were a few good reasons—no time, too suspicious—but none of them would be the real one. It had never crossed his mind to sell any of his possessions. He was always on the purchasing side of business.

"Never mind," cut off Mal. "We just gotta pick up the cargo, and hang in orbit until Inara graces us again."

"Orbit, Cap'n?" asked Kaylee.

"Oh, so we get no fun at all, then, that's the game," grumbled Jayne.

"Not gonna spend more than I have to on this fed-polluted rock," said Mal, with a significant sideways glance at his new medic.

"I'm grateful," murmured Simon, not entirely seriously. He wasn't sure what to do with the cryo box yet, and so did not follow as Kaylee left. Perhaps he should ask one of them about the famous nooks and crannies of Firefly transport ships that Kaylee had tried to regale him on.

Jayne growled a little, and petulantly tipped back his chair and put his boots on the table, muscular arms crossed over his large chest and eyelids darkly hiding his eyes. River's folk music still trilled out of the tiny player Simon had brought, and she sat nearby, humming and fiddling with the checker pieces that had not yet been put away. She had not even looked up as new voices had started speaking, and as new figures had replaced others in her peripheral vision. The pieces were now lined up as if for one of those old-style dances that the high-class Core folk still practiced at balls, men on one side, women on another. Her hair was getting tangled again, as it followed the movement of her head as she swayed—Simon had given up trying to do more than keep it relatively maintained, as it seemed that just thinking about something made little tangles sprout where it had been smooth before. River's humming was surprisingly on key.

Then Jayne pushed his chair forward, and slammed his hand down on the music player. He hit the right button, thankfully, and the music faded quickly away. "This place ain't a tune hall," he grumbled, settling back.

River halted and looked at him, eyes large but not as upset as they might have been. "It's dead," she said, eyes fixed unblinkingly on him.

"Go listen to the noise in your own room," muttered Jayne, but he couldn't quite hide the uncomfortable fidget that always overcame him around River.

River just stared. Her face was expressionless. Then, in a lightning movement, she scooped up the checkers and flung them at Jayne. Caught off guard, he lost his grip and his tipped chair went to the floor with a loud thump.

"Aiya!" cried the big man.

"River!" called Simon, just noticing the situation and coming over quickly to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Killer," said River, eyes still locked on Jayne, but with a slightly colder expression. Then she turned and grabbed Simon's arm.

Jayne scrambled to his feet, fear and anger in his eyes. "You," he said, thrusting a finger towards Simon, "aren't keepin' the deal. She ain't allowed to go nutbrain."

Simon wanted to snap back in defense of the sister who Jayne was murderously glaring at, wanted to reprimand the great beast for ruining his sister's serenity, but he knew he couldn't. "It's all right, River," he said quietly, pocketing the music player. "We can go in the cargo bay," he suggested.

He took her hand and began to walk for the door, when she pulled on him. Looking back at her, he saw only the back of her head and, beyond it, Jayne's face, suddenly becoming slack-jawed. River turned back, a gleam in her eye, and Simon sighed, knowing she had probably stuck her tongue out at him.

They walked into the bay as the ship rumbled and trembled before lifting off. The inertial dampeners were not fully operational in atmo—Serenity was a transport, not a luxury liner—and Simon felt a bit nervous as he heard some continuous rattling as they rose from the dock. Zoe had begun moving the boxes as soon as she came back on board, and now with the help of Kaylee they were almost all dealt with. There was one left: Simon's cryo box.

"Need help with that?" called Zoe from across the bay as Simon stood with one hand tapping on the lid, wondering how and where he was going to put it.

"There's a nice little spot over here," said Kaylee, pointing. "It'll stick out a bit, but not enough t' be noticed, really."

"No heartbeat," said River, leaning over so her head rested on the top of the box, one ear pressed against the cool metal.

"That'll be fine, thank you," answered Simon. In a quieter voice, he added, "River, we need to put the box away now."

Kaylee came over, brushing her hands together, while Zoe followed with a small lift of some kind. "Too heavy to lift manually," said Zoe. "But this should do the trick. Kaylee, you go on one side, and doc, you on the other."

"What are we doing?" asked Simon.

"Liftin' it a little, so she can get the tool in place," said Kaylee. "Just a couple inches."

Simon couldn't help but breathe out quickly as he strained his muscles to lift it even that much.

"It legal to make things this heavy without even a wheel?" asked Kaylee, working hard herself.

"No need to whine, I've got it all set," said Zoe with a smile. The other two dropped the box with relieved exhalations. Zoe pumped up the lift a little, and then began to roll it across the bay.

"Least she don't need us t' push," said Kaylee. "So," she continued curiously, "whatcha gonna do now? Never got t' play checkers with you, y'know."

"I—need to keep River from Jayne," said Simon succinctly.

"I suppose 'away' means 'med bay' for ya?" asked Kaylee a little dejectedly. She had stepped a little closer to him a moment before, but now her weight shifted back.

"He avoids it. And, there's plenty of work to be done," Simon excused, partly recognizing how pathetic it sounded.

"Oh really, like what?" challenged Kaylee. "Y' can't make it anymore clean or organized than perfect."

"No, I'm going to start collecting data for all my new patients. Medical history, allergies, blood type, toxin levels, sleep habits, physical fitness—things I'll need to have on call if more serious things come up than a bad bruise." That was more accurate, and something he probably would have done even if the negotiations had kept the Captain and the mercenary gone all day.

"Maybe I can make an appointment after we load up, then?" asked Kaylee, hopefully.

"I don't see why not—I should have all my previously collected data sorted by then," answered Simon. He looked around and saw River crouching behind one of the other boxes. "Excuse me," he said, and quickly made his way across the bay.

* * *

"How we doing?" asked Mal, coming down into the cargo bay after a short trip to his cabin.

"This is a big load!" exclaimed Kaylee. "I c'n barely move around in here anymore."

"Had to secure most of it—don't want it tumbling around," commented Zoe, buckling the last strap. "I think Lord Tembriar might be absent-minded," she added, raising her eyebrows as she examined the warehouse appearance of Serenity's bay.

"We have enough fuel to carry this load to Greenleaf, Kaylee?" asked Mal.

"Oh, that's no problem, Cap'n," assured Kaylee. "The real problem is if we have to make any dodging or tight turns. Serenity's all weighed down; she needs the straight and narrow."

"We're carrying perfectly legal cargo," said Mal. "Don't see any dodging needin' to be done."

"'Nara back yet?" asked Kaylee.

"She waved—in about an hour," answered Mal.

"Good! Time for a checkup," said Kaylee.

"Whoa, there, mei mei," said Mal, touching her shoulder as she turned to leave. "Somethin' wrong I should be aware of?"

"No, Cap'n," said Kaylee, grinning. "Just that doc wants us all t' let him know about lots o' things that he needs. Allergies 'n' stuff."

"Don't know if I like the idea of him nosin' into my life," muttered Mal, but then caught the warning look that Zoe gave him. Not sure whether it was his attitude alone or the fact that Kaylee had not left yet, he said nothing else.

"It's a good cargo," concluded Zoe, exhaling and resting her hands on her hips.

* * *

"This feels just like back home," said Kaylee, sighing as Simon shone a light in first one eye, and then the other.

"You had regular checkups?" asked Simon, the traditional doctor's small talk, though not entirely without genuine curiosity.

"Oh yeah, Ma wouldn't let us get sick," said Kaylee, blinking heavily as soon as he removed the light. "I don't think he were a real trained doctor, but he did all this sort of thing."

"Mm, yes, I've heard about the doctors outside of the Core," said Simon in a tone that said he was significantly leaving out information. "This isn't my area of expertise, actually—holistic checkups and continual visits."

"You're a surgeon, right?" asked Kaylee. "You didn't check up?"

"It's—complicated," said Simon after a pause, and out of the corner of his eye he caught Kaylee's grin. "Well, I had to have the same knowledge of basic medical issues, but I almost exclusively used that knowledge in the E. R. I didn't deal with the day-to-day problems, and my checkups were limited to when my patients were recovering. Most of them I never saw again—a good thing, considering how I always met them. Careful, this might feel cold."

"I dunno, it all sounds awful," said Kaylee, looking distinctly uncomfortable as Simon looked inside each ear. "Why'd you want to see people all, y'know, broken and hurt?

"I didn't," Simon answered simply. Kaylee eyed him, and he shook his head. "I don't think you can understand. There will always be hurt, so there has to be someone to fix it."

"No, actually that makes sense," said Kaylee. "Surgery though?"

"I didn't like hearing on the Cortex that there was nothing doctors could do for a victim. With the technology and knowledge we've developed, I don't think that's anything more than an excuse for not trying hard enough."

"Y'always talk this much when you're doctorin'?" asked Kaylee with a grin.

Simon stopped, realizing how close and honest the conversation had become, and shook his head apologetically. "No, _this_ is why I chose surgery...no need to keep up a conversation and so no risk of talking patients to death. I'm sorry."

"Didn't say I didn't like it," said Kaylee encouragingly. "Just thought it was kinda interesting. Guess ya feel comfy here."

"Only here, actually," said Simon bluntly, turning to write down more information, missing as the smile on Kaylee's face faded. "Now, I think your preliminary bloodwork will be ready about now. The rest will take longer, but I can do most of the tests I need."

There was a slight shifting of the ship and a thump from above. Simon's hand shot out to grip the counter, and Kaylee's face instantly brightened. "'Nara!" she cried, adding as she started to leave the room, "If y' don't mind, I'd rather not see what's in my blood."

"No, no problem," said Simon.

"She's gone," whispered River, her voice sounding ominous from inside the largest metal cupboard.

"River, are you still in there?" asked Simon, leaning down to look in the dark.

"Forgotten," said River, the light coming into her dark space making her eyes look large and luminous. "Not for long."

"Just—don't stay cramped in there too long. It's not good for your spine." Simon supposed he should be grateful she had contained herself quietly while he was busy—she didn't often do so.

With what Kaylee had revealed to him—more than enough to fill the last hour, as she was quite open about everything—and with what he had organized of River's information, he had two medical files that were almost complete by his former standards. Now as for the rest of the crew—he was not yet sure how willing they would be to offer up information. Shepherd Book and the pilot seemed like they would be helpful, and perhaps the first officer as well. The Companion, Miss Serra? Usually Companions had one doctor who kept all their information for privacy reasons, but then, Companions usually did not travel to the edges of space on transports.

"All forgotten," came River's echoing voice from beneath him after a couple minutes of silence. "Won't cry."

"May I come in?" Inara had indeed returned, looking almost as refreshed as she ever did. But the almost might have been due to the unflattering light of the infirmary.

"Of course," said Simon. "What do you need?"

"Actually, I came because of something you need," she said, stepping forward with a large file in her hand. "You are collating extensive medical data on the crew, Kaylee tells me?"

"I didn't say it quite like that," said Simon.

"Nether did she," said Inara, softly smiling. She came forward and handed him the file, her face turning serious. "I trust that you understand the need for confidentiality in my case," she said. "This is just for emergencies."

"Of course. I trust there will be no need for me to look at it," said Simon, taking the file to his cabinet.

"You were quite busy in Boros," marveled Inara, looking around at the shelves that Simon had set up and filled with new supplies as well as old. "The equipment, though?"

"No, that was already here," said Simon. "Just not in plain view. The last owner of this ship made several large purchases—old machines, but functional. I'll need some more time to become entirely familiar with their layout—I'm not surprised the rest of the crew didn't even realize their existence."

"Good luck," said Inara.

"What for?" asked Mal, coming in like the picture of innocence, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"His newly discovered medical equipment, of course," answered Inara back, brighter but with the constant twinge of sarcasm she used. "Dr. Tam found the remnants of an old hospital in here."

"Im-ag-ine that," drawled Mal. "That'll save me some cashy change, too, me plannin' to refit the whole place in glittery new style 'n' all."

"I'm sure Dr. Tam is just as grateful," Inara tossed back, "both for the savings and for the relief of not having to rely on your judgment in picking out medical equipment."

"Always like a man being grateful to me," said Mal.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, my business is done here," said Inara, sweeping past him.

Mal continued past her into the infirmary, withdrawing his hands from his pockets. "Hear tell you've been askin' lots of questions," said Mal.

Simon looked up from where he had been tactfully pretending to ignore the light warring between the other two. "As your medic it would seem careless to be ignorant," he answered.

"Hmm, yeah," said Mal, looking carefully over everything around him. "Just don't expect to be allowed to nose into all our lives."

"I had no intention of nosing," said Simon. "Kaylee and Miss Serra offered what I wished for without my needing to ask."

"Inara gave you information?" asked Mal curiously.

"Confidential, of course," countered Simon in a final tone.

"Right," said Mal. "What kind of information you asking, exactly? Kaylee described it in a every-bit-o'-life-history sort of way."

"Medical information," answered Simon. "Blood type, physical conditions, allergies...in your case, knowledge of war injuries and any medical problems in your family will be paramount." He raised an eyebrow and waited for Mal to reply.

"Zoe tells me that it'd be good for you to know all this," said Mal slowly.

Simon said nothing.

"I reckon—she's not wrong," continued Mal.

Simon inwardly enjoyed the almost-squirming of how Mal said those words, but outwardly he remained professional. "So then I'll be able to get the information I need?"

"Not now," amended Mal. "But I figure...I can give it to you sometime."

Simon nodded.

"Well, that's all," finished Mal, and he turned and left.

"Remembered!" called out River, as she crawled from the cupboard.

"Remembered what?" asked Simon curiously.

"You know," she assured him, and started out the door.

Simon followed, pondering what had just happened. A hint of content crept onto his face. He had gotten some cooperation—much less than he was accustomed to when dealing with patients, and it each word had sounded forced from the Captain's mouth, but after expecting hostility or at least stubbornness, Simon found that the result was welcome.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Hide and seek. On a ship the size of Serenity, it wouldn't seem a possible game to play. But, on a ship like Serenity, with the idea of streamlined forgotten by the designers, the tables were turned.

"You stay, count," River said to Simon as soon as they were out of the infirmary. Her face was serious, but he knew what those words meant.

"All right," he said. Then she was gone. Sitting down on the couch in the lounge, ignoring the slightly foul smell that rose from it as he sat, he closed his eyes and began to count. This was certainly not something he had planned for today, even though he had begun to count on some kind of interaction with River every day. He would have called it play, would have called it normal—but she did not smile. Last night, as he recorded the day's events in short sentences in his journal, he had commented on River's overall behavior, nearly putting down the words "almost normal". Then he had stopped, and crossed out the words with a sudden fierceness. River wasn't normal—he couldn't let himself forget the gravity of what had been done. They had stolen her smile away, stolen her laugh, and he would never forgive or forget.

After the flash of anger faded, though, he wrote, "doing well". He hadn't lost hope yet, but it was likely that he could never help her to be even "almost normal". He had to appreciate what he had. And that was a sister, alive, who still knew who he was, who ate and drank and responded to him, and who even interacted in almost playful ways. He wasn't sure if hide and seek meant the same to River now, but he was more than willing to play along.

Realizing he had lost track of the number he was on, he decided it was long enough, and rose to begin the search. He walked up to the kitchen, looking around in the more obvious places. As he passed through, the conversations floated around him, an outsider who would soon be gone. And he was, as after the two large cupboards by the stove, not even River could fit into the many small compartments that made up the wall on that side.

He knew she wouldn't be in the engine room—he had told her that was off limits like the shuttle, and strangely she followed instructions he gave her to the letter. He had not even found her on the catwalk near the empty shuttle, let alone anywhere closer, and the engine room also was avoided. The bridge, as well, though he had not given any instructions for it. Going back down, he examined their quarters and the empty rooms nearby to no avail, and then went to the last place she might be.

The cargo bay was impressive, and not at all somewhere Simon would have chosen to hide. Most of the cargo was secured, at least nominally, but he did not have the trust of Kaylee or the Captain in this rickety rusty second-hand ship. Walking up and down the aisles that now existed between the stacks of boxes, he watched out for the cubbyholes. They existed, he knew, and he wouldn't doubt that River might know as well. Then, bursting into the quiet came a sudden tapping to the right of him. He jumped a little, then frowned. He couldn't see on the other side of the boxes, and began walking down the aisle to see what it was. As he went, the tapping followed, a couple short taps on each box. He turned the corner, and came face to face with River.

"I, um, found you," he said after jumping again at her unexpected proximity.

She gave him a look, and walked past him to start tapping on the next set of boxes.

"Game over, then," said Simon, adapting once again to River's behavior. "What is it?"

She turned and put a finger on his lips, stopping his words, and tipping her head and whispering: "Shh."

Simon followed as she continued down the line. This could be some form of the quiet game, or perhaps she was calculating the volume of each box by measuring the reverberations—he really couldn't tell.

"River," he began quietly, but she waved her hand without looking at him, clearly a sign that he was not to speak.

Following along, he watched what she did. At each box she would stop, lean in almost as if to smell, then turn her head so the right ear was next to the box, and gently tap it with her knuckles. She would remain in that position for a couple moments, then shake her head and move on.

They were almost on the last few boxes, when River tapped twice. She stopped, tapped, listened, then leaned in closer and tapped again. She pressed her ear against the large metal box and then held very still. Behind her, Simon felt the urge to hold his breath, so full of anticipation was her body language. He almost stepped closer, but then decided it would make enough noise to probably disturb her.

She stood up, then, and looked back at him. "Alive." The sound was strange, breaking the silence.

"What?" asked Simon, now moving in a little closer.

She tapped the box. "Alive."

"The box is not alive," said Simon slowly, trying to grasp her meaning.

"Inside," she explained, and then began running her hands over the side of the box.

"River," said Simon, cautioning. "I don't think—" Her hand stopped and flicked something, so that a panel suddenly opened. "River, we shouldn't touch this."

"Alive," she repeated one last time. Simon stepped closer, and frowned; the symbols on that panel and the readings were similar to the ones on his cryo box. "Need to save them," said River again, earnestly.

"I—River, I don't think—we shouldn't be touching this," Simon stumbled, his mind running through all possible explanations. "Let's go."

"Don't hide," she urged, making no move to go. "Don't let them get away."

"River, this is the Captain's business," said Simon. "We're not allowed to deal with the cargo."

"Didn't say that," she muttered, looking down at her hands. Simon reached past her and put the panel back where it belonged, returning the box to a normal appearance. River stood looking at what he had done.

"Come now," said Simon quietly. "Let's go." To his relief, she turned and followed, though with eyes lowered.

"Talk to him," she pleaded one last time.

* * *

"You know what I miss about small cheap cargos?" commented Wash, laying down his bid for that round of tall card.

"Being able to gripe about the Captains' choice of jobs?" asked Zoe, matching her husband's bid and raising it.

"No, but good guess," said Wash. "Spaceball, actually. I'm not a physical sort of guy, you know, but there's just something about that game."

"The lack of rules?" put in Mal, raising the bid again.

"Yeah, that seems right," said Wash. "The creativity, too."

Jayne grunted and put in the last bid.

Simon sat across from Inara, his hands clasped in front of him as he stared intently at the chessboard. Inara's face was smooth as a still lake, and she regularly took small sips of her drink. River sat next to Simon, mouthing words but not actually speaking them, while Kaylee stood behind Inara's shoulder, frowning in concentration. It was his move.

Simon had originally brought a book, intending to sit in the corner and do research, hopefully with River doing something nearby, but Kaylee had apparently spilled the beans about his interest in the game, and Inara had come over to offer a friendly challenge. She was good, very good, not surprising when her training was considered. And Simon was a little rusty—he hadn't really found time to play between keeping up his hospital work and finding and rescuing his sister. At the moment, she had him in a good check. It was something he could avoid easily enough, and he knew that she knew it, but the possibilities would be limited after that. Finally he moved a pawn forward.

Inara smiled, depositing her bishop and removing the captured pawn with one move.

"This is a long game," said Kaylee with a little laugh, as Simon moved his knight.

"One does not play chess for quick light-hearted fun," responded Inara with another smile. "I once played a game over three days with a client; speed is not of the essence." She paused, tapping a finger gently on the table as she thought.

Simon nodded, glad that she had spoken before he apologized for losing train of thought. Every now and then, as he got close to figuring out his strategy, River's discovery in the cargo bay would jump back in. He had not mentioned it to anyone, he was not sure he even wanted to, but it would frequently distract him anyway.

"A game with no rules," mused Book at the other table, dealing the tall card.

"It has rules," said Mal.

"Yeah, they're just—very fluid," said Wash. "It gets very creative in the cargo bay when we play."

"Anyone can change the rules any time," said Mal.

Book chuckled. "Where did you learn this game? Spaceball?"

"Spaceball, yes," said Wash. "Well, it's a flight school game...during no-grav tutorials, on our breaks we would try to find something to play. Thing was, the situation made it so we had to keep changing the rules: dropping the bounds, changing the rules and punishment for personal fouls...until the rules said that all rules could be changed."

"Which should mean that I can change that rule and set it in stone that it's a foul to insult your captain," said Mal, mostly good-natured.

"Is that system logically possible," mused Book, confused.

Jayne frowned. "Don't really matter."

"I hate to agree with the lowest common denominator, but yeah, it's just fun," said Wash.

"And, while you were all distracted, Jayne has won that round," put in Zoe, letting her cards fall.

Jayne grinned and began to stack up the free passes he had earned on shipboard chores. Book let out another chuckle as Wash looked sheepish, and Mal eyed Zoe who was trying to hide the twinkle in her eye. Wash stood up and stretched, wandering over to watch the chess game.

Simon was almost losing, losing focus even as he tried to keep it, and it was apparently bothering River more than him. She had grown a little agitated, muttering things constantly under her breath after each move. Kaylee had grown bored with it all, and had picked up Simon's book where he had laid it, randomly flipping through the pages.

"Ah, I knew this would turn out well," said Wash, standing by Simon. River glanced up at him strangely, but he didn't notice.

"Still at it?" asked Jayne, looking over while Book shuffled the cards.

"I'll be surprised if it doesn't last all night," said Inara. "I haven't had an opponent in so long, I need extra time to remember my strategies."

"Why aren't you talking?" asked Wash. "Chess talk, you know, nothing really relevant to the game."

Inara and Simon looked up at each other, and Inara smiled. "There's no need. I would have no objection, but sometimes a quiet mind is an asset."

"It has been years since I played," added Simon. "Concentration is important."

"But you don't!" burst out River. Everyone looked to her, but she had not looked up, still concentrating on the pieces.

"I think she agrees that I'm rusty," translated Simon with almost a smile. "Not that it would make much difference to her if I wasn't. I never did feel daring enough to challenge her a second time."

"Crushed?" asked Jayne.

Simon didn't have to say anything. Jayne chuckled wickedly, and turned back to his cards.

"Are jobs always like this?" asked Simon, changing the subject abruptly.

"No," said Wash. "You see, we don't believe in the word 'usual'."

"Why do you ask?" asked Inara curiously.

"I expected more wooden crates in the cargo," said Simon, as inconspicuously as possible. "The metal boxes looked very strange."

"Yeah, that is something pretty new," said Wash. "High class people, though."

"Hm," said Simon, dropping the subject and focusing on the board again.

"Honey, I'm gonna head to bed early tonight," said Zoe, coming over and rubbing Wash's shoulder. "You going to stay up?"

"Yeah, another round or so will be all for me," said Wash. He wandered back the card side of the table.

"Wanna take Zoe's place, Shepherd?" asked Jayne. "Ain't playing tall card anymore."

"Oh, I have nothing to wager," Book answered, dealing out the cards.

"Kaylee?" called Jayne across the room. Kaylee had grown quickly bored with Simon's neurology book, and was refluffing the cushions on the armchairs.

"Yeah?" she answered, looking up.

"Need a fourth," said Jayne.

"All right, " said Kaylee.

"Y'know, you could do some chores so you could play," Jayne added hintingly to Book.

Book laughed. "Well, I'll certainly keep that in mind."

"Only crew do chores," put in Mal. He had been quiet that night, more than usual.

"Of course," acknowledged Book.

River, after Kaylee had put Simon's book back, had grabbed it protectively and migrated to the couch with it. Simon occasionally glanced over behind him, but she looked fine with it, curled up comfortably on the couch with the book cradled in her hands as her eyes darted back and forth across each page. Inara appeared to be warming up, and was giving Simon even more cause to worry about his rusty skills. It had been an hour, and they had made only a fair amount of progress.

"I'm wondering," said Book, as the card game went on quietly, "how do you keep time? There is no night or day, and not even a clock."

"Don't need clocks," said Mal. "Human body naturally keeps it's own time, and the general lights are programmed to brighten and fade on a 24 hour schedule. There's a clock on the bridge, though. We don't exactly need each minute and second detailed."

"I suppose not," said Book.

"It feels kinda like my uncle's homestead," said Kaylee. Her style of playing cards was very deliberate, thinking about each decision and laying each card down precisely.

"What, all slow and lazy like?" asked Mal.

Kaylee grinned. "Yeah, kinda. Nice."

Jayne tossed his last card on the pile. "Don't much care for this game."

"Why would that be, I wonder?" mused Wash fairly quietly. "Not really a card connoisseur, I suppose, but—oh, you lost."

"I lost worse'n you, Jayne," said Kaylee comfortingly.

Jayne grumbled a bit and glared at Wash, who rose to stretch and yawn before going off to join his wife. "Gonna go work out," Jayne mumbled.

"Wanna play something else?" asked Mal, looking to Kaylee.

"Not really," she admitted. "I'm kinda tired."

"Is it that late?" asked Mal.

"Yeah, it is. Dinner was real late," said Kaylee.

"Oh right, Jayne's meal," remembered Mal.

"I'll just go on to bed, then," said Kaylee getting up.

"Sleep well," encouraged Book.

Mal leaned back in his chair, not saying anything for a moment. He glanced down the table to where Simon and Inara were still engrossed by their game. Inara had a soft smile on her face, and a brightness of interest that added to her elegant beauty. Mal could have watched her for hours. Her hand reached out and made a move, and then as she sat back, her eyes glanced over to Mal and Book. Mal sat up straight then, and looked to Book.

"Not tired?" he asked.

"After today, no, not at all," said Book. "I had nothing to do to make me tired."

"Some folks'd consider that a blessing," commented Mal, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table.

"I like work," said Book simply.

"I don't," answered Mal.

Book looked interested, curious. "What would you rather do?" he asked.

Mal glanced back up, and his jaw tightened. "I'd rather have independence," he said, answering a different question. He was glad when Book said nothing. "If you like work, doesn't make sense to wile away your hours in an Abbey," he continued.

"It wasn't all wiling," explained Book. "We had much of God's work to do besides praying and preaching."

Mal hmphed. "So where're you headed?"

"I wasn't headed anywhere," said Book with a significant look. "But I think I've found what I need." He looked around the kitchen with a smile. "I'd like to stay on for a while more."

Mal's eyebrows raised a hairsbreadth, but all he said was, "Long as you can pay, I've no objection to you staying."

"I can pay," said Book. "But on one condition."

"Really," said Mal with the hint of a drawl. "Enlighten me, Shepherd."

"I do chores with everyone else," Book said seriously. "Otherwise, no deal."

"Fine by me," said Mal, standing up and stretching. "Now if you don't mind, I'll be off to my own rest. Last one leaves makes sure the lights are off," he called as he left.

Book stayed for a moment, a smile lingering on his dark face. Then he sighed, and walked off and down the stairs to his own room.

Simon captured another pawn, looking up as he did so. Inara followed his gaze, and sighed to the now-empty room. "I entirely lost track of time."

"We can finish another time, if you need your rest," said Simon, slowly standing up. Turning to look behind him, he saw River asleep on the sofa, her head resting on his book.

"I'm not tired, actually," said Inara, smiling in River's direction. "But if you need to get your sister to bed—"

"Actually," Simon said, "I think I'll leave her there as long as it's peaceful."

"Well then, shall we finish the game?" asked Inara. "I'm not yet ready to give up."

"Of course not," said Simon genially. He sat back down, and the hum of the ship took priority as they concentrated on further strategies. It was a critical time in the game, when each move meant increasingly more and more, and he frowned as he thought. Kings and queens swirled with mysterious boxes in his head—he would have been ready for bed had River been awake, and his mind now was finding it more difficult to focus.

Inara spoke quietly after a moment. "What are you worried about?"

Simon looked up, blinked, and answered: "At the moment?"

"I don't mean for your sister, or for your new life, or even perhaps for the outcome of this game—" She paused and smiled. "And you are worrying about that, despite being on the offensive." Then she looked at him, and spoke seriously. "There is something bothering you this evening, something urgent."

"Yes," said Simon, stalling.

"I suppose it's related to this ship and crew, in which case I hope you confide in me; I assure you, I'll understand anything," offered Inara.

Simon fiddled with the last piece captured, moving it from one hand to the other. If there was anyone to trust on this ship, he felt it would be her, if he felt like trusting anyone. "It's just about the Captain's business," he said.

"Oh?" said Inara. "You're not the only one who worries about that, believe me." She moved from where she had just been looking at Simon, and placed her next piece in position.

"How legal are his jobs, usually?" asked Simon, approaching his subject sideways.

Inara smiled, not her usual encouraging one, but one that seemed to be satisfied. Simon thought it reminded him of a friend who had gone into trauma psychology, who had always pestered him about a psychoanalysis until giving that smile when he finally gave in. "Well," she said, "that is a difficult question. The short answer is, that they're as legal as he can make them, and if not so he tries to have some reasoning behind them."

Simon nodded but said nothing, not ready to show how this answer had opened up more questions than it solved.

"That's not what you wanted to know, is it?" continued.

Simon glanced up and saw her look, shrewd but kind as always. "You are very observant," he commented, and moved his next piece.

"You are much easier to read than the Captain, whom I have had most practice with," she said. "But you are not completely transparent."

"I was not trying to hide everything, just—" he leaned forward a little, resting his arm on the table. "There is a cryo box in that cargo bay."

"I doubt that anyone could link such a small item to you, even if they came aboard," reassured Inara. "They are not extremely rare, even if they are so on Serenity."

"I didn't mean mine," Simon continued.

Chess forgotten for a moment, Inara visibly straightened. "There is another one?"

"In the new batch of cargo," confirmed Simon. "At least one that I saw—or, well, that River discovered. It was disguised as a normal box as well."

"None of the boxes were empty when they came in?" Inara began to look less than serene and very interested.

"I don't know, I didn't see any of them until they came on board," said Simon. "But the life readings on this one showed at least something."

"Oh," said Inara, trying not to make too much of it, and attempting to focus on the game again.

"I would guess that I know what the Captain felt when he first found River, now," mused Simon ironically. "Cryogenics still have a negative connotation, I suppose."

Inara reached for another piece, hesitated, and then placed it. "I think you should talk to the Captain about this. It may be nothing, but he should at least know what he is carrying."

"I don't know," said Simon, his brow furrowed as he looked at but did not see the board in front of him. "He wouldn't like to know that River had been around there, I think, or that I was making judgment on his business."

"Yes, but he might be more angry to find out later that you knew all along and didn't tell him," put in Inara.

Simon looked up again. "How would he say it: damned if I do, damned if I don't?" he asked with a sigh.

Inara smiled again, a little more worried than before, but still genuine. "Perhaps you expect worse than the Captain will give, as well."

A little smile crept onto Simon's face, though he was not looking at her.

"What is it?" asked Inara curiously.

Simon very deliberately moved his knight, and said, "Checkmate."

Inara looked down at the board, up to Simon again, and then laughed. "I was not wrong, then, to tell Wash that I needed quiet to think. Very well done; I am impressed."

Simon shrugged a little sheepishly. "I'm a doctor; I'm trained to remember the plan, even when surrounded by distractions."

"Your strategy was excellent as well," commented Inara, rising and moving towards the stove. "Did you receive training?"

"Not officially," said Simon.

"I see why you were named gifted. Tea?"

"Yes, thank you," answered Simon.

"Sometimes it's hard to calm the mind quickly after such a game," explained Inara, bringing two cups to the table. "And after such a conversation. I know your nights are not peaceful; I wouldn't want to make it worse."

"Thank you," said Simon, sipping the warm tea. Inara had not put any sugar in it, something he did not mind in the least, and the fruity flavor combined with a more savory herbal aftertaste was soothing. "It's likely better that I spoke," he added.

There were no more words. The quiet did not seem awkward, the ship's noises keeping silence far away. The warmth of the tea spread through Simon, and slowly all of his weariness returned. Inara also began to look worn, and after a while she slowly rose and took her cup to the counter. Giving a last small smile and nod to Simon, she left the kitchen. Simon soon finished his tea and also put his cup away, then walked over to the sofa. River was still soundly sleeping, but her grasp on his book had lessened. Simon carefully took it from her hands and, picking up the blanket that was folded and sitting on the armchair, gently covered her with it and sat down.

He flipped through the pages of the book without paying much attention, then noted that there were now many notes in the margins. His face grew worried again, as he found it difficult to decipher any meaning from them. River had always marked up his books with complex algorithms and advanced logic that he rarely fully understood, making corrections to the text, but here he saw only disorganized thought. Sometimes the comments were expanding on the text, calculations and analysis of neural activity described therein, but most of them seemed to be the recordings of her stream of thought. She had put down disturbing images sometimes as well, and other times words and phrases that were unsettling to him because of their near-random placement. He closed the book, glancing back at his sister. Any moment now, she would wake in fear, troubled by these thoughts and more that rampaged through her fragile mind during the night—and Simon's worry at this moment was how much of it was real. He was not ready to comprehend everything she had been through, not yet.

Moving a little closer, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders. She shifted a little in sleep, turning to rest her head on his arm, and Simon breathed out slowly. He laid his head on the back of the couch, and tried to relax by remembering the earlier events of the day. He would tell the captain tomorrow about the cryo box—and would brace himself for a punch if he offended him, which was unfortunately likely given his track record. It was ironic that this was the thought that led him at last to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Mal was surprised to see Simon coming directly towards him as soon as he entered the kitchen in the morning. He had even left River's side for a moment, and Mal had previously noted that that was increasingly rare. A good thing, too, considering that the girl might go a whole day without reacting, or might have several episodes in sequence of various intensities.

"Doctor," Mal acknowledged.

"I need to speak with you," said Simon quietly.

"That's what you're doing, unless you have some fancy definition for speaking," said Mal.

"I'd prefer to bring this up in a more private setting," said Simon, glancing around the kitchen. Only Kaylee and Book were near enough to hear besides River, and they were conversing together.

"I think here is as good a place as any," Mal answered, a hint of stubbornness in his tone. "Don't go all mysterious, doctor, what's on your mind?"

Simon looked less than encouraged, but Mal didn't loosen his jaw even a fraction. "There is a cryo box with active life signs disguised and among your cargo," said Simon finally.

At first shocked to get a straight answer, Mal then lowered his eyelids and said in a low voice, "You were nosing around the cargo?"

"River was looking around," Simon defended, "and she touched the box before I could stop her."

"Why was she anywhere near the cargo?" demanded Mal.

"I was not aware that that area was explicitly forbidden," said Simon coolly.

"Do I have to lay it out in extreme detail?" asked Mal dangerously. "As a map?"

"As I said, I was in the process of persuading her to leave it alone," answered Simon. "Once the discovery was made, however—"

"Yeah, I understand," cut off Mal. He frowned. "Zoe," he called.

"Yes, sir?"

"We have a problem," said Mal, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Always do," Zoe answered under her breath.

"An after breakfast problem, please?" asked Wash.

Mal frowned, but nodded.

Simon had returned to River, and Mal watched his movements, wondering. What was it about that young man that had his hackles raised? He was dangerous—anyone was who took on such a purpose. He didn't acknowledge authority, either—or rather, he obeyed in rebellion. He was arrogant about his position, too, acting as if the information he desired was due to him. Still, the rest of the crew didn't seem put out by him, and Mal almost worried about that. They were all a bit too accepting in his mind, and always had been, too. Mal supposed it was the gentle way Simon dealt with River, with soft words and careful guiding that belied the dangerous steel core that Mal saw would lead him to do recklessly dangerous things if he thought they were necessary.

Still, he had told Mal about the cryo box. _What could be the motivation behind that_, Mal pondered as he stopped watching Simon to prepare his breakfast.

"So, who won?" asked Wash curiously as Inara finally joined them at the table. He looked from Simon to Inara as neither answered for a moment. "Don't tell me it was a stalemate, I couldn't bear that."

"No, Dr. Tam was victorious," answered Inara.

"It was a long fight, though," put in Simon as he cut River's protein cakes. She was eyeing him with a frustrated look, but Simon had already decided not to let her have knives.

"That's nice," said Kaylee, sitting on the end between River and an empty chair.

Simon finished cutting and gave the plate to River. She stared at it, and then pushed it back to him. "River, you need to eat," said Simon, giving it back. She looked directly at him and gave it another push. "Not now, River." Locked on his for the moment, River's eyes held what Simon could only call the clarity of defiance, but he did not waver. At last she took the plate and grudgingly ate a piece of protein.

"Why don't you flavor hers?" asked Kaylee curiously, sitting across from Simon.

"Hmm?" said Simon, not paying attention.

"Doesn't she like it to taste tolerable?" asked Kaylee, nodding towards River's food.

"Ah, not really," said Simon. "That—well, she doesn't like what I choose. She'll only eat if I don't mess with it."

"Poor thing, eating bland protein," commented Kaylee. "Why don't she flavor it herself?"

"Not right," murmured River in Kaylee's general direction. "Gourmet flavorings don't belong,"

Kaylee looked confused, and Simon shrugged and continued eating. What with the many times per day that he had to deal with it, he had almost become accustomed to River's strange behavior. She had systems, now, that he could only guess at, and things had to be just right—she was also fond of changing the subject. It was as if her mind was as sharp as ever, as systematic and as rational as before, just unable to organize itself. He could see her frustration, even if she did not consciously realize that feeling all the time, and many times he just went with the flow to hide the constant aching in his heart.

"All right, breakfast's over," broke in Mal, who had not eaten but simply watched his food while obviously thinking about something else.

"Ten minutes, Captain?" protested Wash. "What kind of problem do we have?"

"That urgent, sir?" asked Zoe more seriously, watching Mal closely.

"It may be it wouldn't hurt to let another five minutes go by," said Mal reluctantly. "But all your pretty faces better be in the cargo bay after that." He rose and walked off, hands in his pockets.

"That's weird," commented Kaylee.

"What's that?" asked Inara, coming down late.

"Mal says we have a problem in the cargo bay," answered Wash.

"He's acting all ten kinds of funny," said Jayne through a mouthful of protein.

"Yeah," said Kaylee. "Like he's got a secret."

One eyebrow raised, Inara cast a furtive glance to Simon, who looked up a little to meet her eyes. Giving a brief nod, Inara took a seat by Kaylee. "I'm sure he has a reason for it," was all she said.

"Like Mal needs a reason to be strange," scoffed Jayne.

"A better reason than you have to be all grumpy," said Kaylee. "Cap'n don't worry for no reason."

"Says you," was Jayne's comeback.

Wash sighed and pushed his plate away. "Three minutes left, but I'm just curious. I'll see you all in the cargo bay."

Jayne got up and followed silently. Zoe nodded, but took her plate and Wash's to the counter. Wash's plate she set so he could find it later, and hers went in the sink.

"Did he mean all in the literal sense?" Book asked Kaylee curiously.

"Don't see why not," she answered. "He'd have told us privately if it was that secret."

Simon got up as well, since River seemed well and done with her protein, and Kaylee and Book soon followed. Mal stood in the bay, arms crossed in front of him, staring at the rows of boxes. Wash and Jayne stood behind him, apparently not knowing any more than the others.

"Simon?" began River, looking up at him.

"Hush," said Simon softly. "I spoke to the Captain."

"That he did," said Mal, turning around finally. Everyone was there now, questions on every face. "Why don't you explain that exactly to us all?"

"Uh, well." Simon didn't like being put on the spot. "River came in here yesterday, and she—she was listening to the boxes."

"What?" asked Jayne.

"Listen, a word commonly associated with the use of ears—" managed Simon dryly before Mal cut it off.

"And it appears there's another one of those cryo boxes among our cargo," finished Mal.

"What?" asked Wash. There was some murmuring from Book and Kaylee.

"Wouldn't we have noticed that, sir?" asked Zoe.

"Well, I've yet to actually see this box," said Mal, "but I'm told it's disguised."

"And how'd the doc find this out?" asked Jayne suspiciously.

"That's not exactly what I'm worried about right now," said Wash, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, the problem's more of what's in that box," agreed Mal. He nodded to Simon.

Simon walked down the last aisle, feeling uncomfortable. "It's this one," he said, finding the box. He ran his hand under the ridge that River had touched until he found the little latch to open the panel.

"Well, well," said Mal darkly, coming over. "What is this, I wonder?"

"There are strong life readings," explained Simon.

"That doesn't mean anything bad, though," said Kaylee hesitantly. "Cryo ain't illegal, is it?"

"No," said Mal. "But the legal uses don't give off life readings." He stepped up to the box, the lower one in the stack, and his hand rested on his holster. "Jayne? Help me get this box where we can open it."

"It could still be all right, though," said Kaylee, looking to where Simon had stepped back to join River.

Zoe looked to Kaylee, then spoke up as Jayne and Mal removed the box on top of the cryo container. "Sir? Might there be some danger in opening that box without further information?"

"I have a gun, just in case," said Mal, shrugging. The other box came down as gently as the two men could handle it, and Mal pulled out the cryo box into the aisle.

"I meant danger to what's inside," added Zoe, glancing next at Simon.

Simon was feeling very uncomfortable, but spoke up hesitantly. "It might be better to know more, if we don't want to induce cryogenic shock." Next to him he saw River shift at his words.

Mal sighed, and stepped back. "Come and look, then, but make it quick."

Simon came forward and opened the panel again. He pressed a couple buttons, frowned a little, then stood up. "Whoever's inside isn't meant to be removed for another few days," he said, turning to Mal. At the man's rather unsympathetic look, he amended, "But there wouldn't be permanent harm done."

"Back up, then," said Jayne, stepping forward with gun in hand. Simon stepped back, and Jayne nodded to Mal.

In a scene that looked a little too familiar to Simon, Mal pulled up the handle to let a release of cold air, then kicked the lid back and let the billowing cloud quickly dissipate. Jayne stepped forward anxiously, and Wash took a couple curious steps over to get a look. Kaylee stood back with Book, looking as if she felt about half the discomfort that Simon felt, while the Shepherd appeared merely patient. River shivered, and drew close to Simon.

"Well?" asked Zoe.

"What is that?" asked Wash, his mouth twisting a little.

Jayne was frowning, his brow narrowed, but it was Mal who answered first. "Chickens."

"What?" asked Simon, looking suddenly surprised.

"What?" echoed Kaylee, stepping forward to join the others.

"It _is_ chickens," said Wash, confused.

"I don't get it," said Jayne.

They had all drawn around the box, leaving Simon and River and Book on the outside. Simon was itchingly curious, but not bold enough to step in. He looked over at Book, who simply stood with a pondering look on his face, and then to River. She was shifting her weight back and forth, but looked only a little worried.

"So, they're chickens," said Wash, after they had all looked for a while.

Mal stepped forward and lifted the lid back. "Yeah, that's all well and good," he said, closing and sealing the box again. "I don't want them waking up."

"I don't understand," said Inara, who had stayed in the background.

"What's so dangerous about baby chickens?" asked Jayne.

Simon caught a glance between Mal and Zoe, but neither of them spoke.

"So, we don't have contraband," concluded Wash. "That's good, right?"

"Are we missing something?" asked Kaylee, confused.

"Back to the day's work," said Mal. "Nothing to see, problem solved." He began walking back to the kitchen.

"Wait a minute," began Wash, following quickly, the others behind. "We're just going to forget about this?"

"No need to nose around the cargo unless we have to," said Zoe, side by side with Mal.

"Aren't we gonna at least wonder why there's chickens?" asked Jayne.

"I have to say, Mal, I thought you would be curious," said Inara, surprised.

Mal sat down in the kitchen and loaded his plate. "Don't see a reason. We do the job, we don't ask questions."

"Except, you do," said Inara with amused antagonism. She stood by Kaylee, watching him as he ate nonchalantly.

"This isn't your business," answered Mal simply, without looking up.

"I just don't get this," said Wash, looking around for his plate. Zoe silently brought it to him from the counter, and he also loaded up for a second breakfast.

"Maybe he likes chickens," said Kaylee, trying to make some kind of sense. She scratched her head, though, and looked to Inara.

"Save them," broke in River, who had been silent and still. "Need to save them."

"Why was she anywhere near the cargo anyway," demanded Jayne, sitting up as he remembered his earlier suspicions. "What's she know?"

"I—I don't think she knows anything," said Simon, a little hurriedly, putting his hand on River's shoulder. "She's just curious." He saw River looking at him, though, tilting her head and looking at him as if he should be remembering something.

Mal took another bite of food, chewing slowly and diligently. There were no more words for the moment. Jayne leaned back in his chair, disgusted by Mal's apathy, and grabbed a protein cake. Leaving the table with a little sigh, Inara went to the stove to pour herself some tea, and Book left as silently as he had been in the room.

River finally turned from Simon with a little sigh herself, and walked over to the sofa where she sat and began fingering the tassels with a hint of sulking. Simon was still confused, still wondering, but he told himself that there was nothing he could do anyway.

"What are we doing today?" he finally asked Kaylee.

"Oh, nothing much," she answered, apparently having given up on getting anything out of Mal. "You're cooking tonight, right?"

"Ah, yes, I suppose," said Simon, his brow wrinkling. "That—may be regretted."

"Never cooked?" asked Kaylee, leaning forward a little with a smile.

"I made a cake once," said Simon, his tone full of subtext. He rolled his eyes towards River, and Kaylee giggled. "It's just recipes, though. I can follow instructions."

"Instructions?" asked Kaylee.

"You do have recipes, right?" asked Simon, looking back.

"Don't see how that means instructions," said Kaylee, a little confused again. Simon's look of dread gave her cause to smile, though. "Don't worry, you don't have to do nothing fancy."

Simon gave a weak smile, and looked again to River. She was kneeling by the sofa, poking at the cushion with one finger. "Excuse me," Simon said, rising to go and see what she was doing. "River?" he asked, dropping to his knee next to her.

"Surgery," she said calmly, and he saw that she was poking around in the stuffing of the cushion through a small tear. "He's showing too much."

"It's fine, River, really," said Simon, gently moving her hand from the hole. "You don't want to make the hole worse."

"Not worse," she said. "Not unless we don't find it." She pulled her hand back and poked some more at the stuffing, pulling a little of it out.

"There's nothing to find, River," said Simon. First the chickens, now the stuffing—he was starting to get a quietly ominous feeling.

"Found chickens," she said, reluctantly stopping the 'surgery'. "You don't listen to the little ones in danger." She sighed. "Where's breakfast?"

"Right where you left it," said Simon, following her back to the table as her mood changed again. Frowning a little, he felt something was in the back of his mind, some connection he should be making. Glad that the box had not turned out suspicious, though, he still wondered along with the others. Chickens? Then again, should he be surprised on this ship at anything?

River grabbed the salt from the counter and began shaking it over her food. Wash and Kaylee had left, and Zoe was gathering the dishes so she could do her chore. Mal still ate, neither speedily nor slowly, but with a devil-may-care relaxed speed that was frustrating after what had happened in the cargo bay. Simon sat next to River and thought about what he was going to do that day. He glanced at Mal, and wondered what the captain thought of what had happened. Was he upset at the meddling that now seemed without purpose from his medic?

As Simon pondered, Mal then lifted his head and looked at him. "What're you cooking for lunch?" he suddenly asked.

Simon remembered his chore and he sighed. "I have no idea."

"Recipes are in the far left cupboard," called Zoe from the sink.

Leaving River to her meal, over-salted if Simon could judge anywhere near correctly the flow of salt from the shaker, Simon went and found the old, crusted papers. True to Kaylee's word, they only listed ingredients, and Simon sighed as he realized the rest of the day's work was already cut out for him. Sitting back down, he got to work, pushing his nagging thought behind everything else. He was a surgeon—cooking couldn't be too hard. It was all already dead, anyway. No terrible errors to be made...right?


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

There was something about that kitchen table that made Simon think. Jayne would sit at it, and it was only a tool, a prop for feet. Inara would sit at it, and it would be shamed that she deigned to do so. Zoe sat at it, and it was functional but treated well. Mal sat there, and it was well-treated, but clearly subordinate. It was when Wash and Kaylee sat there, and Shepherd Book as well, that the kitchen table was something precious and special, a beloved piece of a beloved ship. Simon didn't mind the kitchen then.

"We'll be on Greenleaf soon," said Book, chopping the pale protein bars into small cubes at the table while Simon rummaged in the cupboards.

"Day after tomorrow," answered Simon. "And I'll be glad."

"Don't like flying?" asked Book.

"Well—no, not particularly," said Simon, surprised at the question. It was not what he had meant. "I get claustrophobic."

"Quite an irony," said Book with a low rumbling chuckle.

"Well, it doesn't really matter what I want anymore, does it," murmured Simon, reaching back into the dark recesses of an oddly positioned cupboard to pull out a bag.

"Mm, that looks promising," said Book, looking up.

"Pasta," said Simon, surprised.

"Let me see," asked Book, and Simon came over to show him it. "Ah, whole grain. Roughly ground, too; probably a payment from one of the Rim worlds they visited."

"Is it too old?" asked Simon as Book gave him the pasta back.

"No, the bag is well sealed. We just need to find something to do with it," Book answered.

"Other than that, there's just dried milk and canned things," said Simon with a sigh.

"No flour or cornstarch, though, so no white sauce," mused Book. "No canned tomatoes, I suppose—too much a luxury for this crew. Perhaps a spicy brine sauce..." he trailed off.

Simon looked up at the clock and then to River, sleeping on one of the armchairs in the alcove. She had grown used to taking naps, but Simon found that she slept less fitfully when out of the infirmary—no surprise, as the bed there was more for function than comfort. Now she dozed, twitching but asleep, holding close the blanket instead of wrapping it around her, legs curled up and bare feet poking out from under her dress.

"Yes, that should work," said Book to himself.

"Pasta then?" asked Simon.

"Yes; if you would heat the appropriate water and salt, I'll prepare the sauce," said Book.

Simon moved to the counter, saying over his shoulder, "I'm very grateful for this."

"It's nothing," Book brushed off. "I enjoy cooking, and it's nothing new for a young man to know little about what food he eats. You'll learn."

"Mm, yes, well I think I've learned more in the past two weeks than I ever wanted to learn before entering medacad," commented Simon as he filled a pot.

Book laughed. "Oh, and you've just cracked the tip of knowledge. Still, this trip is going better for you than the last one."

"Well, let me see," said Simon dryly. "Less feds, less shooting, less surgery. Less threatening, too. I'd say it's an overall improvement."

Book laughed again. "It's never a bad situation if it's improving."

Simon supposed not—it was organized chaos and frustration, at least.

* * *

"Sunrise over Greenleaf's real purty today," said Kaylee brightly, joining most of the others up in the bridge. The last day before planetside had gone by, again with the slightly bored and restless tone among the crew, and now they were ready to disembark for a day.

"And finally, this heavy cargo can be gone," said Wash. "Flying has felt like flying one of those huge blocky transports—no smoothness."

"It's been a tough trip for her," agreed Kaylee, patting Serenity's side sympathetically. "Every time I go t' see her she has somethin' to tell me."

"It'll pay well, though," said Zoe, smiling at her man and Kaylee nonetheless while leaning on the back of Wash's chair.

"Yeah, but I don't know how much that's worth," said Wash.

"Money's worth it," said Jayne shortly.

"Well, I'm a reasonable man, capable of compromise..." began Mal.

"No, really," said Wash in mock dry shock.

"...and a job that's plump with ripe cash is worth inconveniences occasionally," continued Mal, but not without a rather quelling look to his pilot. "How soon till we're down?"

"Oh, twenty minutes, give or take a few, depending on how lucky I feel," said Wash lightly, but keeping both hands on the wheel. "The dock's a bit tricky here; might want to clear loose articles up."

"Get on it Jayne," confirmed Mal.

"Aw, Mal," began Jayne, but trailed off and thumped down the passage to the kitchen.

Simon was feeling a little more at ease—his pasta with Book's spicy strong sauce and marinated protein chunks had gone over quite well two nights ago, and last night's leftover concoction from Kaylee had been a welcome continuation. River had refused to eat anything but the plain pasta, though she had attempted to drink some of Jayne's alcohol before Simon quickly gave her some reconstituted milk, and today she had downed some protein mush with hardly a protest. Tolerable was a word he could honestly use when describing things on board.

"Finish up, we've got to land clean," declared Jayne, scooping up the nearest abandoned plates with one arm and taking a last bite with the other.

Well, mostly tolerable. Simon sighed inwardly and took his and River's plates to the sink.

"Big day," said River.

"Any day we get paid is big," said Jayne. "Lots o' small days, lately. Ain't been good times."

"I suppose that says something for the efficiency of the Alliance, that smugglers find it hard to work," said Simon coolly.

"Alliance don't know a thing about efficiency," said Jayne back, rather snappily. "Anyway, you'd better wish for good times, 'cause we ain't keeping on dead weight if everyone is starving."

Simon did not deem that important enough for an answer.

"Can we go?" asked River suddenly.

"Go? Go where?" asked Simon.

"Go home," she said, in an obvious tone. She had a bright look on her face, if not a smile.

"No, River, this isn't home," said Simon, hating to ruin it. "Greenleaf isn't home."

"Have to stay?" she asked, confusion and disappointment coming on her face.

"Yes," said Simon, "it's best to stay put."

"Damn right," grunted Jayne, coming to the sink with the last armful of dishes.

Simon would have said something, but he didn't. There was only so far he could go with Jayne.

"Won't work," said River, her brow furrowing a little.

"Of course it will, we'll be fine," assured Simon. "We can do things here."

She frowned, but took a piece of the hair that fell over her face and said with grudging acceptance as she stared at it, "Need to wash hair."

Simon nodded, saying approvingly, "That was what I was just thinking."

* * *

"Kaylee?"

"Yeah, Cap'n?"

"Zoe, Jayne and I are going to fly into town," informed Mal, hands in his pockets as he watched Kaylee fiddle with the engine. "Don't know exactly where Lord Tembriar lives, but we'll go to him once we find out. Probably won't unload for a couple hours or so, but you and Wash can be ready by then?"

"No prob, Cap'n," said Kaylee, coming up from under one of the panels, a spot of grease on her nose that made her look positively adorable in Mal's eyes. "How long we fixin' to stay?"

"Two days, that's all. Not hard to find a job 'round here, and that's all Inara needs."

"Shiny," Kaylee said. "Don't need nothin' much, so I guess I'll get t' see the sights."

"Long as you don't stay away all day and don't tell anybody where you're goin' to," added Mal.

"Yes, Cap'n," chuckled Kaylee, dropping back down to finish with her work.

"Shuttle's all set," said Jayne, coming up behind Mal.

"Let's do this, then," said Mal, walking back up to the kitchen where Zoe was strapping on her favorite gun. "That cargo's been burning through my hull a good enough while now."

"That's certainly true," murmured Zoe.

* * *

Lord Tembriar seemed to have a larger dislike for the general populace than his wife, though he was well known in town, and his house was located in the hills outside of the main town. With greater variety in its landscape than most, Greenleaf managed to please some who cared for looks, and displease others who cared for function. Beyond the flatlands, there were few settlements—the perfect low budget place for those who didn't like the Core. And apparently, being well away from Core-like cities was a priority for Lord Tembriar. Well away.

"Is that—"

"No, Jayne, it's just another hill."

"Aw, come on, it has to be—"

"Hill, Jayne."

"This is crazy."

"Won't disagree."

"Ain't that—"

"No, Jayne."

"Jayne," spoke up Mal at last, "just don't talk."

It was mid-morning when something other than a piece of landscape entered their horizon. Jayne didn't speak, but his exhalation was loud and clear enough.

"At last," said Zoe.

"Not so shiny a taste, I see," said Mal, as the low riding house slowly grew in their sights, a dull green color with a slightly darker trim.

"That's a blessing," commented Zoe.

"You sure this is the place?" asked Jayne, eyeing the modestly decorated and sized place with confusion.

"Well, if you'd rather search around some more to find something you'd think likelier, another hill perhaps—" hinted Mal.

"No, no, this is prob'ly it," Jayne hastily answered.

Zoe seemed to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

A large building on one side of the complex appeared to be a sort of parking garage, but its doors were closed, and so Mal drew up the shuttle on the square platform in front of the entrance. He noted the smaller windows, the outposts on the roof that probably had guards, and the pacing men all around the place that seemed to be in security uniforms.

"Not so lax on security, I see," said Zoe, as they opened the shuttle door to see a group coming up to meet them.

"What's your business?" asked the leader, one hand resting on his holster, his men standing with weapons at ease but available.

"Business with Lord Tembriar," answered Mal.

"Do you have an appointment?" His tone was smooth, almost monotone.

_Figures_, thought Mal as he answered, "I do.

"Follow me, please," said the other, nodding his head at them.

"Mal—" began Jayne in a low tone.

"I didn't say you could talk," answered Mal firmly. They followed the security chief, and cast a glance behind them as the other men filed in behind them.

Mal took note of everything here: the corridors, the doors, the exits, the guards. Every part of this house seemed designed to be defensible, and there was practically nothing that did not serve that purpose. _Absent minded _and_ twitchy, _thought Mal. He moved his eyes to one side without turning his head, and saw Zoe marking aspects of the place as well. There was nothing to suggest that anything dangerous would happen here, but nothing to suggest that it wouldn't either. There were several turns before they stopped.

"Wait here a moment," said the lead security officer, and he walked forward a few paces to a large door. Pressing a button, he spoke discreetly into a microphone and waited for a moment. After receiving an answer, he turned and nodded to Mal and his men. As they came forward, he entered in a code on the keypad, and the door slid open smoothly.

"Here we go," murmured Mal. He adjusted his coat and followed the security officer into the room.

Nearly as spartan as the rest of the house, Lord Tembriar's room was populated mostly by a large round table and a desk in one corner. His lordship was currently at the latter, bent over papers and not looking up as they entered. Mal and the rest of them walked across the room, which was fairly large and hard-floored, until they were nearly before the desk. Lord Tembriar was a squirelly man, lithe and twitchy with large eyes hidden behind wire-rimmed spectacles. He was clad simply in a dark grey suit with elegant lines, similar to the styles that Simon seemed to prefer, and wore a thin green necktie.

"Ah, I didn't think anyone had scheduled today," he said, then suddenly looked up to notice Mal. His eyes darted up and down his figure, and then he paled visibly. "Mr. Travers, this man has no appointment with me," he said, looking to his security officer, but with eyes darting back to Mal frequently.

"I'm afraid that's not quite true," said Mal, frowning a little. "I do remember scheduling for this very day with your wife."

"My-my wife?" asked Lord Tembriar. "Don't be so foolish," he continued, his hand clicking his pen rapidly. "I've received no news from my wife in two weeks."

* * *

Left over back, right over back, Simon folded his shirts and laid them on his bed. He smoothed out what wrinkles he could, but overall accepted their softened and loosened appearance. No point in starching and ironing out here. Eventually they would probably even lose their crisp white color and become threadbare, and yet he wasn't ready to give them up. They—made him feel comfortable.

As each shirt joined the pile, he kept an ear open for River. He had left her a couple rooms away in the bathroom with a pan of warm water and some shampoo, since today seemed like a good day for her. Back as far as he could remember, she never really liked keeping clean. Their nurse kept her in pretty clothes and put up her hair in a neat style, but River seemed to consider quantum physics more important than the state of her face. Like so many things, this had changed and yet stayed the same. She was willing to consider cleanliness, but often seemed lost with it, as if she had forgotten the steps. But though he still brushed out her hair, today she decided to wash it by herself.

A broken scream rang out, and he dropped the shirt he was folding. It was rarely so simple. Opening the bathroom door, he saw what he had feared. Kneeling before the pan of water with tangled hair lathered in frothy white bubbles that dripped down her back, River rocked back and forth, her equally lathered hands covering her face as she cried. Simon came forward, kneeling and wrapping his arms around her.

"Shh, mei mei, shh," he began, but she still rocked back and forth in his arms. Knowing by now that she would come back only when she was ready, he quietly held her close. First the crying stopped, then the rocking, and in a couple minutes she was resting her head on his chest, each breath a halting half-sob. Her dress was now damp, and so was his newly cleaned shirt. "Hey, mei mei," he murmured. "What's wrong?"

"Chaos," she murmured from behind her hands, and pulling a little away from him.

"What kind of chaos?" Simon asked, turning her head so that she was facing him, and gently moving her hands from her face.

She didn't look at him, but shook her head slowly.

"You don't know?" he prompted. She shook her head again. "It's okay, everything is all right here," he continued, reaching over to pick up a towel. Her hands were still soapy, and he wiped them clean as he murmured, "Everything's all right."

"Fear, confusion," she said, her face contorting in fear again. Her hands pulled away from his and buried themselves in her hair. "All around me."

"No, mei mei, it's okay," said Simon, holding her head in his hands so that she looked at him. "I'm here; there's nothing wrong." He paused, and brushed a tear and a soap bubble from her face. "Except for this; you have soap in your eyes," he said soothingly, and dipped a corner of the towel in the water.

She fell silent and still as he washed her face, distant from him and yet keeping close. Soon he had rinsed her hair and patted it somewhat dry with the towel so he could comb it out. There was no effort on her part to do it herself; she seemed to have forgotten why. When the last tangle was gone, she sat for a moment facing away from him in silence.

"Are you all right?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Is—is the chaos gone?"

Turning back, she curled up next to him like a child, and said without tears, "Getting worse." And he had nothing to say, just kept his arms wrapped around her to keep as much of the chaos away as he could.

* * *

"I don't think we're understanding each other," said Mal, stepping back a little and bringing up his hands calmingly. He saw Jayne tensed out of the corner of his eye, though Zoe was still calm.

"Mr. Travers, I don't have any business with this man," insisted Lord Tembriar, sitting back and still clicking the pen.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to leave," said Mr. Travers, putting a hand on Mal's shoulder. Another man touched Jayne, who grimaced and knocked the hand off.

"Whoa, now, wait a minute," answered Mal, stepping away from the invading hand. "There's a mistake here, because I did have words with Lady Tembriar, and she hired me to move some belongings that you left behind."

Lord Tembriar stood up, pushing his chair back quickly and standing tall. "This is insane," he said. "I didn't leave anything behind." His eyes shifted from Mal to Zoe to Mr. Travers.

"Well, your lady did say that you probably wouldn't notice, but I do have a bay full of cargo that she says is yours," continued Mal, resting his hands on his hips.

"Your story sounds more like thievery than legitimate business," spoke up Mr. Travers in a cool tone.

"Indeed," said Lord Tembriar, adjusting his jacket.

"We agreed on a price, you received a bill," insisted Mal.

"Don't make things worse for yourself," said Lord Tembriar. "I never received anything."

"Should I notify the authorities?" asked Mr. Travers.

"There's no need for that," said Mal assuringly. "We'll wait for you to identify the goods and contact your wife, if you need."

"It would take a day at least to receive a message back," said Lord Tembriar. "And you know that," he continued, pointing a finger at Mal. "I don't care where you got the cargo, it isn't mine. I brought everything that was mine with me. I don't know why you're trying to force this on me, and make me pay for it no less, but I'm sure the federal officers can clear this up."

Mal looked to Zoe, who looked back with an expression that was enough for Mal to comprehend. This was not the best situation they had been in, and though not currently dangerous, they didn't like where it could go.

"Keep watch on them, and inform the local police force, Mr. Travers," finished Lord Tembriar. Mr. Travers nodded and left. Two other guards held a ready hand on their guns, while one confiscated the guns of Mal, Zoe, and Jayne, and also the latter's several knives. Mal sighed, holding his hands up in a cooperative way while Lord Tembriar's security team went about their job. Lord Tembriar took a hasty sip of water, put the cup down, and started to leave. Mal cast a glance at him, wondering what would be the best method of dealing with him, when his lordship passed very close to Mal.

"Why won't you people leave me alone?" he hissed, and then walked out of the room, leaving Mal to blink.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

There was only one chair in the holding area and Mal had appropriated it, sitting with his back slouched and his arms crossed over his chest as he brooded in the wall's general direction. The fingers of one hand repetitively tapped the other arm, but other than that he did not move. Jayne was sitting slumped on the floor, flicking the little bits he had found on the floor, while Zoe leaned up against the wall.

"How long's it been?" asked Jayne in a low voice.

"Half hour or so," answered Zoe.

"What are they doing, exactly?" asked Jayne again.

"They've sent for the feds already," answered Zoe, having, after all, nothing else to do. "They'll probably send some to the ship, and send out a message back to Boros for confirmation. We'll probably be questioned as well."

"That ain't so bad," said Jayne. "Why's Mal all wrung up?"

"Because, Jayne," said Zoe, losing some of the patience in her tone, "they're going to search Serenity."

"We ain't got anymore goods than this load," said Jayne comfortably.

"No," said Zoe. "Just fugitives."

"Tzao-gao," Jayne growled under his breath.

"The doctor's got brains—there's a chance he'll see it coming."

"Brains ain't everything, I know that," countered Jayne. "We're humped."

"A little caution can make up for general survival skills," said Zoe.

Jayne sighed and flicked another wood chip. "We're humped."

* * *

River was plucking at the sofa cushion again, though she no longer talked of it as surgery. In fact, she was not speaking at all. Simon had found the cushion's state too hard to take, and had gone for a needle and thread; one practical use for surgical skills discovered.

"Found your calling on this ship as a seamster?" came an amused voice from behind him. Simon looked up and saw Book smiling down on him, Bible in hand.

"Ah, no," he answered, "it's just, well—"

"It was broken," said River, breaking her silence.

"Irritating," amended Simon. "I can't stand things in disrepair."

"No surprise that you have a good stitch," commented Book, going to the kitchen counter to prepare food. "Where is everyone? I was praying this morning, didn't see anyone after last night."

"Doing the job, for the most part," answered Simon, turning back to the cushion. "I think Kaylee went into town, and Wash—well, I don't know what he's doing, but he didn't leave the ship."

"Greenleaf is a nice place, from what I remember," mused Book.

"We need to go, Simon," added River.

"What?" asked Simon.

"Go," she said. "Away."

"To town?" asked Simon.

River nodded. "Kaylee."

Simon didn't know how to explain this again, and he cleared his throat, trying to find the words. He didn't have to.

"It's not good to go wandering," said Book, coming over with his breakfast. "Things aren't always safe, for you and your brother."

River looked to him, some distress showing on her face. "Not safe here," she said, her voice almost questioning. "Just go, just look."

"That's really not a good idea," said Simon.

"Find treats," she said, a hint of a smile creeping to her face. "Please?"

"I—we can't, River," said Simon, "really. I'm sorry, it's just not safe."

"Don't worry, I'll bring you something back," said Book suddenly, crouching down to her level and smiling. "How will that do?"

She drew back a little, casting down her eyes and fiddling with a piece of fluff from the cushion, but then she looked back up. "It works," she muttered.

Simon let out a sigh and Book clapped him on the back before standing up. "Thank you," said Simon quietly with relief. He watched as she turned back to her cushion, as if no longer connected to her surroundings. "Sometimes—I just don't know what to do with her."

"No one expects you to," said Book before sitting at the table to eat.

Simon wondered if he was expected to believe that.

* * *

Jayne was now leaning against the wall, sighing heavily every so often. Zoe had closed her eyes, and was rubbing her forehead with her fingertips in small circular motions. Mal had tipped back his chair and rested his chin on his chest, still staring broodily.

The door then opened in front of them, and all looked up to see Lord Tembriar enter behind a guard.

"Sir, there is no new information," said the guard.

"I don't need anything new yet," answered Lord Tembriar, swallowing and watching his prisoners carefully. "No weapons?"

"Nothing, your lordship," said the guard.

Lord Tembriar stood for a moment, clasping his hands in front of him while the guard stood patiently waiting. "Goodbye now," said Lord Tembriar impatiently, and the guard turned and left. The heavy door shut behind him, and the loud slide and clink of the lock reminded them all exactly where they were.

"I don't conjure you've come to apologize," said Mal, looking up.

"Of course not, you idiot," snapped Lord Tembriar. "Don't play around with the charming brigand act! I know your type, and I can see why you got away with this so far, but you must be insane to think it would work on me. Not that insanity's a rare thing."

"Insane?" asked Mal without curiosity, letting all four legs of his chair touch the floor again and leaning on his knees.

"I told you, I don't want anything to do with you anymore," explained Lord Tembriar pleadingly. "I didn't think you'd be so insistent. I just want a quiet, safe life."

"We're not interfering with that," said Zoe, as Mal seemed to be without the right words. She glanced to him, while Jayne listened with a lost look on his face.

"Don't go giving me fancy speeches, I heard them all," said Lord Tembriar adamantly. "I was in for a while, the inner circle, though maybe you're not high enough to know all that."

"What?" asked Jayne, shaking his head.

"I'm thinking you're putting the insanity on the wrong culprit here," said Mal. "Or you've got the wrong men."

"Look brown enough to me," said Lord Tembriar shortly, gesturing almost frantically towards Mal.

Mal looked down at his coat, and then up at his captor. "That's true, but don't make you any less confusing. Except—" he paused and looked back to Zoe. A light came into his eyes. "I know exactly what you mean," he said soothingly, his posture switching to something non-threatening. "This was out of the question, and I'll make sure you're not bothered again."

"You're desperate, you're lying," accused Lord Tembriar.

"I assure you, we won't trouble you again if you just let us go in peace. But bringing in the feds will only muck things worse," said Mal.

Jayne looked horribly out of the loop, but Zoe's emotionless face did not seem to help him at all.

"The feds have no reason to believe whatever story you tell them," said Lord Tembriar.

"You feel safe in having covered your tracks, but why take the risk?" asked Mal pursuadingly. "I'm a fair man, with no reason to pursue you any further."

Lord Tembriar stepped closer to him, moving his hands to clasp behind his back as he swallowed again. "You're too smooth," he said.

"Don't make what I'm saying a lie," said Mal with a half-laugh.

No one spoke. Lord Tembriar blinked, and Mal gave a quirky smile that was meant to be encouraging. Jayne seemed to be trying to add things up in his mind, while Zoe still stood still. Mal's smile faded a little as no word came, but it was still hopeful. Lord Tembriar's left eyebrow twitched.

* * *

Looking over his notes, Simon was baffled by their inconsistency. Though as factual as possible, the experiences reported did not make coherent sense. As far as he knew, River was a unique case, which meant that he would have to create a new treatment. Trauma surgeons were not trained for that, and he was certainly not ready. All his life he had prepared, hours before each test, days before each exam, weeks before each project, years before each step up the ladder of medical success. And though he had prepared for almost two years to rescue his sister, he had failed to account for that which should have crossed his mind: diagnosis and treatment. He had failed in so many ways, and it had only been three weeks since the rescue.

Unfortunately, he could not turn back time and major in psychology nor intern with the most esteemed neuroscientists. He had little experience with failure, but he would try—he had to try. He couldn't face ultimate failure.

River watched him from where she sat in the corner of the infirmary, the darkest one, under the overhanging counter. She had a book in her hands, and she absent-mindedly caressed the pages, but her eyes were fixed on Simon. He glanced up and met her gaze every so often, but it only added to his causes to frown. She was expecting something, and yet she was not asking for anything from him.

From across the ship he heard the landing platform lower—or at least he hoped it was that—and then the sound of voices. Footsteps dashed across the distance, and then he heard Kaylee distinctly.

"Doctor? Doctor!"

Heart rate rose, and he put down his book and walked to the doorway as Kaylee ran up to it.

"Feds are coming," she said breathlessly, and Simon went into action.

"What do you mean?" he asked, going quickly back to take River's hand and help her up.

"Come," said Book, close on Kaylee's heels. "There isn't much time.'' Simon looked back at his medical things, and Book saw and nodded. "I'll get it, son."

"What's going on?" asked Simon, as he followed Kaylee out the door.

"I don't know," said Kaylee nervously. "I was just in town and I saw them asking questions. I heard 'Serenity', and I ran back. Shepherd Book was on the way."

They reached Simon and River's rooms, and Kaylee started grabbing together River's things while Simon opened his bags and began stuffing things in.

"I think our friend Dobson might have gotten off more information than we thought," said Book, coming in with two bags of Simon's medical gear. "This isn't all, but the rest can be attributed to standard infirmary stock if we're questioned."

"What's the plan exactly?" asked Simon, hurriedly packing.

"I thought we could maybe hide you on Serenity," said Kaylee, coming across the hall with River's things in a pillowcase.

"Federal officers aren't generally idiots," said Simon. "They'll search."

"Exactly," said Book, taking the pillowcase from Kaylee and helping Simon get the bags together. "We'll need to get you away from the ship."

"Won't they look in town next if we aren't on the ship?" asked Simon.

"They'll look for fugitives, a young brother and sister, running away from the area," said Book in a meaningful tone.

"And they'll find that," said Kaylee, unsure. "Unless they're disguised," she added, catching on.

Book nodded, but Simon shook his head. "No, no, that's not a good plan at all," he said. "River—she's not predictable—and I can't—"

"There's no time for that," said Book. "We probably have two or three minutes to get you away," he added, putting a hand on Simon's shoulder.

"I'll prep the mule," said Kaylee, popping off to do her part.

"I've thought of something that might work," said Book. "Come." He walked out to his room while Simon followed leading River.

* * *

"Neither of us want any trouble, you're sure to understand that," continued Mal to Lord Tembriar. "I'll leave this planet tomorrow, won't see you again, cause I know you'd definitely call the feds then."

"Why should I believe you don't want my reputation damaged for the troubles you think I've caused?" queried Lord Tembriar, looking closely at Mal.

"It'd hurt the cause more, right?" asked Mal hopefully.

For a moment Lord Tembriar looked convinced, but then he shook his head. "No, I had it right the first time. The feds take you for stolen cargo and fraud, what have I got to lose? Any accusations will be the words of a desperate man. I let you go, I'm complicit and you have evidence that may hang over my head. No, what's in my best interests is not what's in yours." He stood up straight again. "This is over and done with."

"You don't know that they won't investigate," added Mal, standing up and calling after him.

"And you have no idea the standing I have in this community," answered Lord Tembriar confidently.

"You're not that secure, or you wouldn't have come to negotiate," said Mal.

Lord Tembriar swallowed, shrugged, and whisked himself out of the room.

"What the hell was that?" demanded Jayne.

"Well, ain't this a fair bit of twisted go-se," said Mal darkly.

"You have a clue to all this?" asked Zoe, coming over to Mal.

"Yeah, that I do," said Mal somewhat absently, walking over to the far wall and examining the seams in the metal. "Our fine employer used to be an Underground Browncoat."

"Say what?" asked Jayne.

"I thought you said we were hired as independent contractors, not Independent contractors, sir," responded Zoe.

Jayne was speechless at the calm understanding that seemed to be between his superior officers, and also seemed to have missed the inflection of Zoe's words.

"Well, there's yet been no evidence that I'm entirely infallible," said Mal, leaning over and running his hand along the lower edge of the wall.

"True. What clued you in here?"

"His attention to my coat," said Mal. "Noticed from the first visit that he gave it an extra-long look, but it was the final straw this time. Did help to know about the chickens."

"Now wait here a damn minute," began Jayne. "What do chickens have to do with anything?"

"The Underground Browncoats plan to overthrow the Alliance," explained Zoe, as Mal's attention was elsewhere. "They're small, futilely so, but full of foolish passion. They work on being self-sufficient, in crops, food, medicine, materials, and so on, so that they can use some Outer Rim planets as strongholds when they mount their campaign. They have to ship all these supplies secretly to keep the Alliance from knowing their headquarters." Zoe ended with a dry scorn and a slight shake of the head.

"As if the Alliance would consider them a threat," muttered Mal.

"How do you explain the rest, sir?" asked Zoe.

"Well, Lord Tembriar clearly wanted to leave his old world behind, and he's paranoid at being followed by that old life. His wife is clearly lacking some important aspects for being a suitable companion to a covert operative of an illegal organization, so he had to leave her behind, especially so that she wouldn't accidentally reveal his dark past when he abandoned it." Mal stopped, stood up straight and looked up at the tiny windows on either side of the room. "He came out here, barricaded himself from society and possible members who might be after him for reasons which aren't quite fathomable to me, and did pretty well until his wife hired us. She clearly didn't know the ramifications of his dealings, but knew enough that she thought he would approve of us, and so sent along his purposely abandoned items with us. He thought we were trying to blackmail him, and so we're here."

"You think the feds have reached Serenity?" asked Zoe, as Jayne slowly digested the information.

"They are efficient," acknowledged Mal wearily. "There's a good chance our infamous new passengers have been bound, and even if by some chance they haven't, we need to escape before they make it here."

"Don't think this fella goes for dumb cells," said Jayne skeptically, not moving to join Zoe and Mal with their inspection.

"No, the paranoid ones do have fine criminal housing," agreed Mal. "But the more focused you are on something, the more little details you'll account for and the more you'll miss something more important right under your nose. Zoe, let me up."

Zoe knelt and interlocked her fingers, giving Mal a lift to window-level.

"Ah, this is good," said Mal. He leapt down. "We're on the aboveground level, and the ceiling leads into the buffer zone between us and the roof. It's not strongly attached, and as the building drops straight off on all sides, there are no guards."

"So what're we gonna do, burst through the roof with our heads so we can jump to our death?" scoffed Jayne.

"Well, yes to the first, though not exactly 'heads' or 'our', but no to the second," explained Mal. "How hard can you hit, Jayne?"

* * *

Serenity sat peacefully on the docks, ramp lowered and cargo clearly visible. Kaylee leaned back in a lawn chair in the sun, and waited as the troop of federal officers approached.

"Looking for passage?" she called cheerily. "We've got the smoothest ride—"

"Don't waste your pitch, sweetheart," commanded the head officer chillily. "I'm Officer Jarndyce, and I need to speak to your superior officer."

"Oh, you want to talk to Wash," Kaylee answered, stumbling a bit and looking serious. "I'll—he's just inside." She skittered up the ramp, nearly tripping over her lawn chair as the feds followed. "We're not in trouble, are we?" she asked nervously, then pressed the intercom button. "Wash? These feds wanna talk to you."

"Your charges, if they are filed, will be told to you at a later point," said Jarndyce, gesturing with his hands for the officers to search the cargo bay. "A Firefly, eh?" He pulled out a notepad and marked something down. "Interesting."

"She's pretty, ain't she," Kaylee ventured shyly.

"A good design," said Jarndyce haughtily, but before Kaylee could respond, he finished with, "for smugglers especially."

"We're not smugglers," protested Kaylee.

"The containers and safety straps are all Alliance grade," reported one of the officers who was now returning to Jarndyce. "Everything seems good."

"Search the entire ship," said Jarndyce. "Anything out of the ordinary, you let me know."

"Uh, what exactly is wrong, officer?" asked Wash, hopping down the stairs, Hawaiian shirt billowing behind him.

Jarndyce looked to him, then scribbled on his pad. "You are?"

"Hoban Washburn, pilot," said Wash. "Kaylee, what are they doing on the boat?"

"Dunno, he won't tell me," said Kaylee.

"This isn't a problem with Mal, is it?" asked Wash suspiciously.

"Captain Reynolds?" asked Jarndyce. "Why, is he known for getting you in trouble?" he added quickly, with a sharp glance.

"Um, well, no," Wash said, stumbling a little. He cast a quick glance to Kaylee, also somewhat surprised.

"Not really," she said. "Just starts bar fights sometimes."

"I assure you, we wouldn't be wasting our time on something like that," said Jarndyce. He finished his writing, while Wash and Kaylee exchanged hasty worried looks, and then looked back up to them. "Now, I'd like to see some paperwork on this cargo."

"Paperwork?" asked Wash.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"I'm having difficulty seeing the benefit of this," muttered Simon as he helped River put the hooded cloak over her new outfit.

"It's all right, son, you shouldn't," said Book. He took a small scissor and cut a small piece of hair from his ponytail. "Those of your background should see things as black and white, and black doesn't flaunt itself under one's nose."

Simon tied River's hair into a topknot and then covered it with the hood. "How did you—"

"I know how the world sees my profession," answered Book quickly. He pulled a pen from Simon's bag and began to take it apart. "Are you well read in philosophical works?"

"I don't know," said Simon, attaching his collar with difficulty and glancing down the alley where they were located. "I've read all the classics, we debated in school...but improv is not—"

"I've spoken with you before, you'll be fine," assured Book. Taking the ink cartridge of the pen, he shook it over the hair clipping that he had lain on a handkerchief.

"And River?" asked Simon nervously.

"She can do what she does best," said Book, smiling at the girl who was now clad in Shepherd's garb. "Do you have the adhesive?"

Simon nodded, and River raised one finger to her lips to say: "Shh."

* * *

"It's not going to be easy," grumbled Jayne as he tried to balance on Mal and Zoe's shoulders.

"Just don't break your arm," said Mal. He tried not to breath too heavily, bracing himself under Jayne's massive bulk.

Taking a deep breath, Jayne drew back his arm and then gave a powerful strike. His forearm crashed through the wooden board ceiling, leaving a hole a foot and a half across. Pulling his arm back, he gave it a shake, and then plowed through the weakened boards.

"All set!" he cried, as a key rattled in the door.

"Hold there!" cried a guard, before Jayne plowed through his face as well. Mal and Zoe quickly pushed the body into the guard behind and slammed the door shut. The locked clicked, and the key lay abandoned on the floor.

"We're good, people," said Mal. "Jayne, you're up first." He and Zoe braced themselves again to help vault Jayne up into the opening they had made. "Pull up Zoe next!"

"This may work," commented Zoe, with a little too much surprise for Mal's ego.

* * *

"Well, officer, I would love to offer my services," said Wash genially, but Jarndyce cut him off.

"Do you, or do you not have the paperwork for this cargo?"

"I'm a pilot," declared Wash, throwing up his hands. "I'm outranked by three people, including my wife—I don't do anything official."

"Your captain's ship's papers were all that were found on him," said Jarndyce slowly. "My men will see if they are to date, but I need to know about the cargo."

"Um," put in Kaylee tentatively, and Jarndyce turned to stare at her. "I think the paperwork went to Lord Tembriar with the bill."

"Hmm, at least you're consistent," muttered Jarndyce as he scribbled again. Looking back up he said in a louder voice, "So you didn't file official paperwork?"

"I really have no idea," said Wash with a nervous laugh. "I told you, I'm just—"

"Bound by law, yes, thank you," said Jarndyce. He closed his notebook and beckoned to his officers. "We need to bring them in for questioning."

"But we haven't done anything!" protested Kaylee.

"We'll be the judge of that, thank you," said Jarndyce with a cold smile. "Where is the rest of your crew?"

"This is it," said Wash. "We're not a large operation—our registered Companion isn't on board at the moment."

"Indeed," mused Jarndyce. "Men, I want a guard stationed by the ship, and the rest of you come with me."

"Well, this will be fun," murmured Wash as he and Kaylee were cuffed.

"This ain't good," said Kaylee, shaking her head and looking back at Serenity. "Not at all."

* * *

"I don't find the idea that life can be so coldly considered to be accurate with Biblical conditions," argued Book seriously.

"It's hardly cold," answered Simon, stumbling on the last word. "A, uh, merciful death is all the love we can show to a person in some cases." He felt uncomfortable in his garb, and even more so with the inkstained mustache glued on his upper lip.

"Don't discount the injunction: do not kill," said Book, gravely placing a hand on his Bible. "Even the medical profession used to consider that the golden rule."

"It's not completely abandoned," answered Simon, trying not to glance at where River knelt before a bench, praying in the eyes of all passerbys on the busy street. "But in—in extreme cases, love must also be kind."

"Love is the first law," acknowledged Book with a gesture. "But don't let yourself be misguided by the secular world and take things out of context. You are young, Brother Samuel, and expected to have passionate beliefs, but those beliefs do not have to be tolerated." He put a hand on Simon's shoulder, and murmured under his breath, "You are doing well."

Simon breathed out and forced himself not to look behind him at the street. Book nodded at him to continue in a less self-conscious volume. "Do you still think the Scriptures are accurate, after almost 3000 years of being translated?" asked Simon. "Should we put so much on each literal injunction?"

"Oh, that is dangerous ground, my son," said Book, but without rebuke. "Without the Scriptures, what doctrine do we have?"

"Is it not better to—to trust the conscience that was given to us?" asked Simon.

"Ah, but you have said many times before that men are fallible," countered Book.

"But you argue that—God—has placed in each of us something—" Simon broke off as Book reached out a hand on his shoulder.

"Men may misuse what God has given them," said Book in a less vocal tone, looking past Simon's face to something that Simon knew he should not turn and draw attention to. "Brother Samuel, we should see what Brother Richmond has to say before we continue."

"I—agree," finished Simon. There was a moment of silence among them, as the oblivious crowd around them filled the streets with noise.

"His prayer time is nearly finished," said Book. Drawing closer to Simon, he said, "You may look and see."

Simon turned around, glancing for whatever had caught Book's eye. He started at the sight of uniforms, and then recognized a familiar Hawaiian shirt. His breath caught as he saw that Kaylee and Wash were slowly being taken away and now were almost out of sight.

"Brother Richmond, it is time for us to return," said Book, touching River's shoulder.

The hood put her face in shadows, and she rose with a conspiratorial: "Shh."

"Yes," said Book.

"What—" began Simon, turning back to Book with all his astonishment writ plain across his face.

"The sun has begun to sink; we are well past our time," said Book significantly. He raised his own hood, and as Simon did likewise, they began to walk back to the ship, away from the federal officers who had Kaylee and Wash under arrest.

Soon they turned down the alley, and Simon burst out with: "What happened?"

"I have no more information than you," said Book quietly. "But I know that federal officers are only allowed to arrest if there is proof of a violation of some law, and so I think we can be sure that they did not come for you."

"But why Kaylee? And Wash?" asked Simon.

"Let us find out," said Book.

"Won't there be officers on the ship?" asked Simon nervously.

"You two stay in the background," directed Book. "I'll deal with this."

"Prayed," River said softly to Simon. "Catharsis comes from releasing problems, even if to an unproven power."

Simon nodded to her, but his worry commanded his attention at this moment. Soon they were back at the docks, and he saw that Serenity's door was wide open with one federal standing guard. Book motioned for Simon to stop at the bottom of the ramp, while Book walked humbly forward with his Bible clasped to his chest.

"I'm sorry, this boat is off limits," came the crisp tone of the officer to Simon's ears. He had his head bowed, and only heard what was going on in front of him.

"Perhaps a mistake was made," came Book's warm assuring tones. "We were called to perform confession for this crew in exchange for passage to Persephone."

"This crew has been bound by federal law," said the officer.

"Oh dear," said Book apologetically. "I did not think they needed to confess such large sins."

Simon heard the officer speak again, his tone a little more personal. "Well, it's just a lack of paperwork I think, but I do have my orders."

"Of course," said Book. "If something does come of it, we'll need to find other passage. Some of our belongings were moved here already. Might we?"

"Just don't touch the cargo," came the officer's voice, official again. "And hurry up."

"It's all right, brothers," called Book's voice, and Simon looked up with an inward sigh of relief.

He and River walked up, trying not to look inconspicuous. The officer was young and looked bored, watching the action around the docks, but Simon did not release his breath until they were past him and in the cargo bay.

* * *

"Keep it down, Jayne!" hissed Zoe as they crawled through the roof, carefully placing their weight on each beam.

"Weren't made for stealth, you know that!" hissed Jayne back.

Mal was in the lead, feeling pretty sure he knew how to make it to the front entrance. He loved enclosed spaces and hated them. In the war, stuck in trenches, he had cursed and fought for a breath of fresh air, but in Serenity's bowels he felt safe and secure. This wasn't so bad—he was fighting for freedom again. Like always. Mal sometimes wondered if wearing a recognizable coat made his employers think that he was ready for a fight all the time, when all he wanted was for the gorram job to go smooth. Do a job, get paid, no undue fussin'—it wasn't such a pipe dream, was it?

The alarms started going off in the complex below, becoming intensely loud as they passed over one.

"It's a fair bet they have heat sensors to locate us, sir," called Zoe. "Shouldn't speed be of more essence?"

"Don't want to get lost," called Mal back. "But yeah, silence isn't so important now."

Jayne grunted satisfactorily.

"We're about a third of the way there," said Mal.

There was some more crawling, some violent curses as even Jayne's calloused hands objected to the raw splinters that invaded them, some pauses as Mal caught his bearing.

"Sir?"

"We're doing good," assured Mal, starting forward again. "But shensheng de gaowan if my knees are ever going to forgive me again," he added in a mutter.

"So we gonna get our shuttle back?" asked Jayne.

"That's the plan," began Mal, when suddenly he stopped and put a hand to his hip.

"What is it, sir?" asked Zoe.

* * *

"Are you insane?" asked Simon in a loud whisper as soon as they were past most of the cargo. "We know what happened, we don't need to stay. We need to run."

"Wash left us a code, in case something happened," said Book. "We need to contact the Captain."

"What if they've taken the earwig from him?" asked Simon.

"Wrong number," said Book simply.

Simon followed cautiously with River as they climbed up to the cockpit. Book reached under the right console and looked at the sticky note. Finding the comm switches, he began to dial in the code.

"Hello?"

_-What the hell is this?-_ came the muffled but clearly clueless tones.

"Right number," said Book with relief.

_-Wash? No, couldn't be-_

"Shepherd Book, Captain," said Book.

_-I thought we didn't set these things up-_

"Wash had a contingency plan."

_-Idiot could have told me first-_

"Suppose so," said Book. "Captain, we need to make this quick."

_-The feds come?-_

"Yes. They've taken Kaylee and Wash, but the rest of us managed to escape and come back on Serenity secretly."

_-mumbled cursing-_

"Troubles?" asked Book ironically.

_-We're about to retake our shuttle, if we can get out of this attic, and fly to you-_

Simon frowned, and Books eyebrows raised, but he answered only, "Understood. Wash and Kaylee?"

_-We'll see. Gotta go-_

"Good luck," said Book, and the last thing they heard was the click of the radio.

"We really need to leave," said Simon.

Book didn't answer, tapping his fingers on the console and glancing around. "Paperwork," he murmured.

"What?" asked Simon, confused.

Book walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a datapad and a packet of blank papers. "We got many cargo shipments in the Abbey; I have a good idea of what they look like."

"We're forging paperwork?" asked Simon incredulously.

"The Captain was careless in not leaving the official papers where his crew could find them," said Book as he began to type.

"I highly doubt that there were ever—" Simon stopped as Book cast him a significant glance. "Right. But how will you manage signatures?"

"We don't need to manage things perfectly," said Book.

Simon sighed and reached over to keep River from touching the controls.

* * *

"We're here, Jayne," said Mal, scooting to the side and pointing to a wall.

"Finally," muttered Jayne as he drew close to punch through.

"Guns a'blazing, folks," said Mal. "Let's make this quick."

Zoe drew her gun as Jayne powered for the strike. With a crash, he was through again and rolled out of the way so Mal could roll in and shoot warning fire. Mal fired high and then low, and saw the guards scatter and duck to shelter.

"Sir, there are guards on the roof," said Zoe.

"I'm counting on them being recruited for the search," said Mal. "Jayne, again."

"Pretty uncertain guess," commented Zoe as Jayne broke through the boards.

"Now or never," added Mal with a grin. Climbing through, he hopped to the ground and rolled forward, popping up with guns firing. A shot wizzed by his ear, but the guards weren't ready for aim and shot wildly. He ducked low and dodged behind the shuttle. By the time the door was open, Zoe came dashing in, followed by Jayne with some more cover fire. Mal had her up in the air in minutes, and left the back door open so Jayne could rain fire down on any opponents.

"Yes!" cried Jayne as they pulled away.

"No anti-aircraft, sir," said Zoe with as much exultation as she could put in her voice.

Mal closed the door to the shuttle. "We need to make it to Serenity."

"What about our folk as got caught?" asked Zoe.

"Still thinkin'," said Mal. "Need my ship."

* * *

The one federal by Serenity was starting to yawn as Book came up to him. "Young man?"

"What?" asked the guard, standing to attention.

"I was gathering my things, and I found these papers on the floor," said Book, handing over two pages.

"Oh," said the guard, looking over them with furrowed brow, as this was clearly not his area of expertise. "I see. Well, I guess things are in order."

"So the arrest can't stand?" asked Book innocently.

"Well, I don't know about your captain, but we can't hold your other crew," said the guard with a nod.

"Good," said Book. "I just remembered that some of my things are in the lockers, and I mislaid my key. Could you call and have them released?"

"Well, it doesn't really work that way," said the guard, scratching his head. "I can call in, but the papers have to be signed by an officer and someone has to bring them in."

"If you could sign them and call in, might I pick them up? I think we'll need to hurry, but I don't want to inconvenience anyone."

"No, no, I think that would work," said the guard. "I don't usually do papers, but there's not really any cause to worry with something this simple." He pulled a radio from his pocket. "Uh, sir?" he called in. "Yeah, the ship's passengers came by and found the papers. Uh, yeah, they seem to be in order. Well, one of the passengers wants to do it, says he's in a hurry to get his key from the crew. Yeah, I'll send him in. He's a shepherd. Yeah, I'll do the extra paperwork. Sanders out, sir."

"It's good, then?" asked Book expectantly.

"Uh yeah," said Sanders, pulling a pad from his pocket. "I'll just sign these things, and give you a pass. You know where the station is?" He glanced briefly over the papers and signed them, then scribbled on a bit of paper.

"I can find my way," said Book. "Thank you, son."

As Officer Sanders looked up to respond, there was a loud thunk and he suddenly crashed to the floor. Simon stood there, the heavy wrench in his hand and a look of disgust on his face.

"Here, let's put him somewhere quiet," said Book, leaning down to pick up the officer by his feet.

Simon grabbed his arms and lifted. "I suppose we had to do that?"

"I'm afraid so," said Book with a set look. "He'll be fine. I'll go get our crew, while you stay and guard the ship. Close the door, and don't open it for anyone but us."

"I—I can't do that," objected Simon. "If anything fails, River and I should be well away from where the officers are sure to come."

"Listen, son," said Book gravely, putting a hand on Simon's shoulder. "If they all get taken by the feds, you're not going to get safely off this planet."

Simon grimaced, but had no response.

"I'll be back soon," said Book. He mounted the mule and drove off.

Simon walked all the way inside and pressed the button to shut the door. He and River were now alone on Serenity. Exhaling, he slumped down on a box by the door, worry filling his heart. River came quietly over to him from where she had been sitting on the stairs and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. She had let her hair down and lowered her hood so that she looked even more strange, a hybrid of young shepherd and little sister.

"Tired?" he asked. It was not past mid-day yet, though their time in disguise had felt like a lifetime.

"And hungry," she said with a sigh.

"Hopefully things will be over soon," he said, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulders.

"Danger's not over yet," she said.

"Well, that's certainly true," he said with a sigh of his own.

They sat and waited.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"I've never been bound before," said Kaylee, sitting on the bench with her knees drawn up under her chin.

"Yeah, it's not like Mal to let things get so bad," said Wash, pacing a little.

"You think he's okay?" asked Kaylee.

"Mal's always okay," said Wash, coming over and sitting next to Kaylee. "And Zoe too, probably. Jayne has an uncanny ability to survive."

"Do you think Simon and River got away?" asked Kaylee.

"I'm not all that good with evaluating plans," admitted Wash.

Their cell door burst open, and a guard came in.

"Can I help you?" asked Wash with an innocent raising of the eyebrows.

"The charges have been dropped," said the guard, coming forward and unlocking their handcuffs.

"Well, that was all to be expected, since we didn't know what they were," said Wash calmly.

"We can go now?" asked Kaylee.

"Yes, and your crewmate is waiting for you," said the guard.

"I knew Cap'n would get us out!" exclaimed Kaylee with a little jump of joy.

"You're Captain's under arrest if we find him," informed the guard. "Best get to your ship."

"Right," said Wash.

"But who?" asked Kaylee, as they walked out of the cell towards the lobby. "Oh, Shepherd!"

Book came forward, relief and concern mingling on his face. "We have to go quickly."

"Well, yeah," said Kaylee.

Wash didn't say anything, just looked surprised. They left the station hastily, and then Kaylee turned to Book.

"Is everything okay?" she demanded. "What happened?"

"How did you get us out?" asked Wash.

"We need to leave before they examine the paperwork too closely," said Book. "The Captain is on his way to the ship as we speak."

"And Simon and River?" asked Kaylee.

"They should be fine," said Book.

"What on earth went wrong?" wondered Wash. "I thought for sure you'd run with the Tams," he added.

"Do you know how long it took me to find a suitable ship?" answered Book.

Kaylee grinned. "You sure are a good man, Shepherd."

* * *

"I can see Serenity," said Zoe as they drew near in the shuttle. "Door's shut."

"Feds must be guarding her," said Mal.

"Do you know how to lock in the shuttle manually?" asked Zoe.

Mal grimaced.

"Didn't think so," Zoe sighed.

"We'll land and give a knock," said Mal. "They won't have more than a few guards, and we can handle that."

Landing on the nearest docking platform, Mal exited the shuttle quickly with Zoe and Jayne. The coast was remarkably clear.

"They didn't share the details with all the feds, I take it," said Zoe.

"I'm not surprised," said Mal. "Listen, Zoe, we'll need to takeoff and make the rescue before the feds get in touch with each other."

"How're we planning to break in an Alliance station?" asked Zoe.

"By force, if necessary," said Mal simply. Zoe didn't look convinced.

They moved quickly up the ramp. Zoe drew her gun and stood on one side of the small door, while Jayne stood on the other. Mal gave a quick knock, his other hand on his holster, and was slightly surprised when it opened after a second without a fuss. The door was half open when Mal nodded to Jayne. The mercenary stepped forward quickly and hooked a punch around the door. There was a sound of fist meeting flesh, an oof, and a body hit the floor. Mal pushed the door open and he and the others barged in, guns drawn.

"Simon!" cried River, suddenly crouching down where the doctor was neatly laid by Jayne's punch.

Mal felt a twinge of guilt at her broken tone, but Simon was only out for a few seconds.

Blinking and looking dizzy, Simon slowly sat up. "What was that?"

"Didn't mean that, doc," said Mal, an apology in his tone. "But what are you doing here? Shepherd said you were in hidin',"

"He's gone to get Kaylee and Wash," said Simon, standing up and pressing his hand against his face with a grimace.

"How's he gonna do that?" asked Jayne.

"Forged paperwork," explained Simon, stretching his jaw and shaking his head a little.

Jayne nodded, surprise and grudging appreciation on his face.

"Let's hope he did good work," said Mal. "Nice disguise," he commented, noticing the shepherd's robes and the moustache on his dangerous passengers.

"We need to get in the air as soon as possible," said Zoe.

"Right," said Mal. "Zoe, up to the cockpit, Jayne, be ready to let our folk in. I'll get the shuttle."

As the three went off on their appointed tasks, Simon nursed his aching jaw and frowned. He decided that, despite the lack of gratitude, he should be grateful that Jayne hadn't led with a bullet. "Come on, River," he said.

Just then, Wash and Kaylee dashed in through the door, followed closely by Book.

"We're all right," reported Kaylee to Jayne. "Cap'n?"

"Get in, we gotta go," said Jayne.

Wash dashed up the stairs while Kaylee looked to see if they were all safe. "Whoa, doctor!" she cried.

Simon wondered if there was a bruise already, and touched his cheek.

"No," said Kaylee, touching her upper lip.

"Oh," said Simon, remembering the disguise. He reached up and pulled off the bit of hair on adhesive.

"That was real smart, Shepherd," said Kaylee, turning to Book as he and the Tams made their way to the back of the cargo bay. Serenity's engines began to fire up, rattling the cargo. Simon heard the ramp rise as he and River went back to the infirmary.

"We should get changed," he said to River.

"Comfortable," said River, stroking her collar.

"It's not ours, River," said Simon, but in his mind the outfit was anything but comfortable. It was itchy and hot, like wearing a wool sweater—but those were River's favorite.

She sighed and followed as the ship shuddered and began to rise.

* * *

"Okay, so what's going on?" demanded Wash as he reached the bridge where Zoe was at the helm. She swiftly moved aside as he came in.

"We had some minor difficulties," said Mal.

"Minor?" Wash exclaimed. "We were taken by the feds!"

"Just a little dispute that grew unnecessarily out of hand," Mal tried to soothe.

"Ah yes, like usual," sighed Wash with a hint of snark.

"Just get us up in the air before they call in the cavalry," said Mal.

"I thought you said this was a small dispute," said Wash, but he took the controls in hand.

"Well, a small dispute from a man with clout," said Mal with a little shrug.

Serenity rose heavily, and Jayne came bounding loudly up.

"Kaylee says not to try anything too fast," said Jayne. "She ain't had time to fuel up, and we ain't been conservin' enough, she says."

"Kao!" hissed Mal under his breath. He was leaning on the copilot's seat, watching the horizon out the windshield as Wash brought them to the air.

"We contact Inara?" asked Wash.

"Soon as we got on board," assured Zoe. "She'll meet us a little ways off tomorrow."

"What kinda escape is this, 'zactly?" asked Jayne suspiciously.

"We'll see how she flies," said Mal, to the obvious distress of the other two men.

There was a beep on the monitor by Wash's console.

* * *

Simon had brought River to the infirmary, helped her out of the robe, which she gave a last fond stroke to before Simon took it to fold it. He watched her closely, worried at the lack of signs of worry in her face. Situations such as this had most people slightly unnerved, and he knew her well enough to know that she was not merely hiding it. Never had she reacted exactly like most other people he knew, but River was not like this. River was quirky, but she laughed and furrowed her brow like any other—this River, this—did he dare even think the word 'broken'—this broken River laughed when she should cry, and cried when she should laugh. And now she was calm in the face of approaching thunder. For Simon had no doubt that things were not yet over.

He saw Book pass hastily by the infirmary towards the stairs, and moved quickly to the door. "Shepherd?"

Book stopped, and turned. Simon rested his hands on the doorframe, and asked in a hushed voice, "Have the feds discovered our deception?"

"That is hardly our concern," Book began to explain, his forehead wrinkling. "Were you not informed of what happened?"

"Uh, no," said Simon, simply. "I—well, I was knocked out and promptly ignored."

Book shook his head. "I do not know it all, but I believe the Captain had some foul relations with the client."

"I am in deep shock," intoned Simon dryly.

Book gave an understanding sigh, and then looked towards the stairs as there was a slight shudder in the ship. "I believe I may be of some use in the engine room."

"Cap'n?" came Kaylee's voice, loud and full of frustration from the engine room above.

Book departed, and Simon turned back to River. He had apparently done his part, and was needed no more.

Book went up the stairs quickly, and nearly ran into Kaylee as she was about to leave the engine room.

"Oh, Shepherd, there you are!" she said, her face hot and greasy. "I didn't want to have to get Jayne, y'know."

"Do you need assistance?" asked Book, rolling up his sleeves.

"Yeah, yeah," said Kaylee, hastily returning to the heated engine room. "The strain's going to be too much if I can't reroute the cooling tubes into the longer system—wait a minute." She ran back to the door and gave a shout. "Cap'n, we can't burn this fast yet!"

"Where do I go first?" asked Book, his arms ready and willing.

Kaylee gave a relieved smile, and pointed to one side. "Ya know what the cooling system looks like?"

Book answered with an assuring smile, and began to work.

* * *

Kaylee's shout went almost unnoticed in the bridge.

"What is it?" demanded Mal as the console beeped.

"Ke wu," muttered Wash, reaching to flip three switches above his head. "Captain, we've got an incoming vessel headed straight towards us."

"Feds?" asked Mal.

"Negative, it's a private vessel," said Wash. He turned a dial on the dashboard and then looked up. "And armed."

"Get us away, Wash," said Mal, mostly calmly.

"We're still fully loaded," answered Zoe, as Wash seemed distracted with the various controls. "Serenity can't get us out of here fast enough."

"What do they want?" asked Jayne, obliviously staring puzzledly at the blip on the console that indicated the ship that was following them.

A flash of light streamed past them out in space.

"I think they want the evidence gone," said Zoe slowly.

Wash turned around in his chair, demanding, "Mal, what did you _do_ to these guys?"

"Honey, we're being fired upon," said Zoe, spinning his chair back to face the wheel.

"Okay, I'd like to declare this an officially bad situation," said Wash. "Mal, what side are they on?"

"They're straight behind us," said Mal, looking at the screen.

There was a jerk and the sound of an explosion. Serenity rattled unappreciatively.

"That was not good, Wash," said Mal.

"I think I figured that out," said Wash snappily.

"They're going steadily, honey, you can dodge them," assured Zoe.

There was another shot, and a red warning light began to flash on the dashboard. "We can't take another hit like that," explained Wash. "Everyone hang on!"

* * *

Book heard a little yelp as the ship jerked, and then saw Kaylee jump up from where she had been messing with cables under the engine, putting a hand to her forehead.

"We got hit!" she exclaimed.

"Should I go see what's going on?" asked Book.

"No, it's gotta be the folks Mal made mad—feds don't fire on sight," said Kaylee. "Quick, do you know where the fuel bypass system is?"

"Uh," began Book unsurely, but as Kaylee used her free hand to point to it, he recognized it and quickly went over.

"Just hook the green line into the—that grey box there," said Kaylee, keeping her hand pressed on the little gash in her forehead.

Book was thankful for the simplification, and followed her instructions quickly. Kaylee knelt down and picked up her wrench with her free hand, brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, and finished tightening a bolt. "Almost there," she murmured, blinking to keep the sweat out of her eyes.

There was another shake as a shot hit closer to the engine. "Oh Wash, don't let us blow," murmured Kaylee, giving a last twist to the bolt. "Shepherd?"

"All set," he responded.

"Okay, I think we need to focus on the buffering before—"

Suddenly the lights flickered, and there was a slight displacement of gravity as Serenity did a sudden corkscrew followed by a swift dive. There was a lurch as gravity was restored, and then the engine and all lights died.

"Oh, no, no, no!" cried Kaylee in the dark. "Wash!"

No one needed to be told. They were stalled.

Book fumbled his way out the engine room and waited for Kaylee, and then rushed up to the bridge.

"Wash, I told you nothing—" began Kaylee, but she stopped.

"We're sitting ducks," said Mal with a sigh.

There was a pause.

"Why ain't we dead yet?" asked Jayne.

"They can see what happened to us, right?" asked Wash.

"Kaylee?" asked Mal, turning to her.

"I can't do anything till lights come back, and then it'll be a couple minutes," she said apologetically.

"Are we—is something wrong?" asked Simon, who had quickly come to join them. River followed silently, and stood by the entrance, watching.

The small ship rose into their sights as Serenity floated freely in space. It's guns were ready, and it moved slowly towards them.

"They want to board us," said Mal with a sigh.

"What do they want?" asked Wash. "What exactly is our situation?"

"Orders, sir?" asked Zoe.

Mal leaned on the back of the copilot's chair, tapping his finger, a dark look clouding his face.

Simon was worried, more than before. "If they're going to board us, shouldn't River and I—"

"They don't care about you," said Mal, standing up and facing his crew. "They want to make sure all the evidence is destroyed at once."

"What evidence?" asked Wash.

"Us, the cargo," said Zoe. Mal nodded.

"We're gonna fight, right?" asked Jayne.

"He's not going to have sent more than a couple dozen in that ship," said Zoe, looking to Mal.

Simon looked out, seeing the ship as it drew close and extended an airlock.

"A couple dozen?" asked Kaylee nervously. Wash echoed her tone in his look to Zoe.

"That's suicide," said Book gravely.

The lights flickered back on, and Kaylee made a hasty departure.

"If we can hold them back so Kaylee can get us running, we might have a chance," said Mal grimly.

"Might," said Wash, emphazing. "That's the operative word there, you understand?"

"They might kill us on sight," said Zoe.

"Yeah, that too," agreed Wash.

"Then we don't let them have a sight," answered Mal. "Jayne?"

"I'm on it," said the mercenary, seriously and yet with a bit of glee.

Mal turned to Book and the Tams. "You all can take refuge in the shuttle, take off if things go poorly, meet up with 'Nara tomorrow. Can you fly?"

Simon hesitated. "Well, I have a theoretical knowledge—"

"I can get us out if it comes to it," said Book more confidently.

Mal nodded, and they all began to leave to take up their positions. Simon's heart was pounding again as he realized that their brush with certain death was by no means over. "River?" he said, reaching out for her.

"You won't leave without me," she asked.

"No, of course not," said Simon.

"Can't touch the shuttle," she said explainingly.

"It's all right just this once, River," Simon said. "Come, we have to go."

Book was lost in thought for a moment, then turned to Simon and nodded. "Take her. I'll follow once I know how things are going."

"We may not have much time," said Simon, frowning.

"Don't worry, I can tell if a battle's lost," said Book darkly. "Go."

Simon took River by the hand and hurried out and across the catwalk to the shuttle. He had felt tired as they waited in the infirmary, feeling every shake and jolt of the ship as it was hit and then turned, but now he was frighteningly on edge. He had almost felt away from danger over the past couple days—it had been a foolish feeling.

As he and River entered the shuttle, he looked out to see Book place himself on the catwalk only a few paces away. Jayne was on the far side of the ship, weapons in hand. Mal and Zoe were hidden among the cargo. Wash was somewhere, and Kaylee was in the engine room. Book looked to Simon and nodded. For a moment, Simon felt like joining in on the action instead of waiting behind doors for catastrophe to strike. Then he felt River's hand on his arm, and the feeling faded away. His life wasn't his own to risk, even to protect the ship that had offered them shelter so far.

He shut the door, isolating himself and River from whatever would take place. He was part of the crew—but not enough for this. Outside, he heard the other ship lock on. Any moment now, and they would board.


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's Note: So sorry about the wait...a car accident and the subsequent therapy and medication left me unable to post. This is the last chapter, and will be followed shortly by an epilogue._

Chapter 13

There were moments when Mal wondered about deep things, times he hid well from a crew that he thought should be unsuspecting. Deep things such as why he chose to fly in a spaceship when he hated feeling cornered. Serenity gave him the warmth of a home and the freedom of being able to traverse more than hard rock—but then why did it always seem that she was unmovable and the last corner where he could hide from those that pursued him?

_It's all right,_ he whispered to her as the other ship latched on. _No power in the 'Verse, and certainly no half-baked lordling, is gonna take you away from me._

Soon he heard the airlock being forced open. Hidden behind the first row of cargo on the right, Mal focused all his attention on what he could hear instead of what he could see. The slap of boots in a cautious stride echoed a little around the bay. There was a clicking of guns being shifted in the hand, and one of them was cocked. Paying close attention, he even heard the swishing of silk upon silk—apparently his lordship himself had come to see the job finished.

"Captain Reynolds!" came a sudden sound, addressing and yet also questioning. Mal was starting to dislike that ever-so-slightly uncertain quality of Lord Tembriar's voice, but he stood his ground. Hopefully Jayne was well hidden up on the catwalk and would signal if things got dangerous.

"I know that you know that I know you're here," came Lord Tembriar's voice again, and Mal rolled his eyes. Why did Core folks have to talk so twisted anyways?

"I don't intend to shoot you on sight—I could have found you and done so already." _No, I reckon not,_ thought Mal. _At least not without losing some of your precious men._ Still, Lord Tembriar didn't seem like one to deceive from his pathetic way of trying to do so.

"I know you won't start a shooting match, because you know you're outnumbered," continued Lord Tembriar. _Just talk, let Kaylee fix that damn engine._ "So why don't you come where I can see you so we can talk?"

"Don't see a reason you'd need to talk with my actual self," called Mal. "Anything you've got to say, I can assure you I'll hear just fine with my pretty face behind these boxes." The boots had stopped, but they now started up again for a few steps, only to stop again. Mal grinned. What with the size of this bay, it'd take a keen ear to catch exactly where the sound had come from.

"Curse you!" came the outraged cry. "I don't intend to kill you!"

"Right, that's why you shot at us; I can see the friendliness real clearly," Mal drawled back.

"They were deliberately shots that would not do anything but disable you," said Lord Tembriar.

Mal was slightly surprised it wasn't bad aim. "You didn't want the feds to see a big explosion," he answered. "Well, I'm not gonna give up and let myself be blown to high heaven in a smaller way so you can take my ship and your new life."

"I don't want you dead," insisted Lord Tembriar. "I just want the cargo destroyed, and for you to face a small time for trespassing and blackmail."

"I'd prefer my chances with death," answered Mal. _How long could that engine take to restart?_

"If you force me to, I will escalate this affair," warned Lord Tembriar. Mal almost rolled his eyes, but unfortunately recognized the seriousness of the situation.

"Well, I'm not entirely unfamiliar with violence," said Mal, cocking his own weapon. He hoped Jayne remembered the order to give warning shots until fired upon.

The boots began to tramp, and Mal began to backtrack down the row of boxes. Apparently the guards had been paying attention as Mal spoke, for Mal heard them coming in his direction. As he reached the end of the aisle, a shot zipped past his head and he didn't have to turn around to know where it came from.

"Zoe! Jayne!" Mal shouted, ducking behind a box. He counted to three, then turned round the corner again and let off a couple shots. He saw a man fall, clutching an arm, but the others were well trained and were back after a blink of the eye.

A rain of fire came from above, and Mal quickly looked up to see Jayne emerging from his hiding place on the catwalk, a gun in each hand, unholy light in his eyes as he blasted at his enemies. A few shots rang off the silver boxes, and a few more buried themselves in the wood. _Chao ma-niao had there better not be explosives in any of those._

Leaping out with his guns at the ready, Mal fired a few shots and hopped across another aisle. He heard shots from his left, as well as sharp cries from some of the guards, and knew Zoe was handling herself well as always. He now hated this job, not only for the trouble, but because he couldn't see how many guards he was up against because of the damn boxes!

He fired another couple shots down the aisle, and dodged behind a box as the other guards came around the far corner. Leaping back, he put a hand to his hip, feeling the buzz of the earwig again.

_Captain, there's twenty guards and Kaylee's five minutes off from having us in the air _Wash's voice was a welcome relief as he hastily fumbled the earwig to his ear. His news, however...

"I heard you, Wash," Mal answered back, darting down an aisle after a last wild shot. He had almost lost sense of where he was, down one of the middle aisles with guards probably all around. It was only a matter of time, and five minutes was unfortunately long. There was a chance, though, that Lord Tembriar had taken shelter as his guards spread in search of the guerilla crew, and Mal believed in taking the wildest most likely chances.

Had he been thinking more strategically, Mal would previously have arranged the cargo in a checkered pattern, with alternating squares of cargo and floor so that there would be plenty of places to hide from bullet fire, instead of the long straight aisles that begged to be used like street alleys (with even less cover). Mal had always thought he had kept the strategy he learned in the war, but he feared at this moment that all those years of dealing with businessmen had left a stubborn mark on his psyche.

Glancing again up, he saw that Jayne had advanced down the catwalk unscathed, as the guards apparently did not know how to deal with opponents on the high ground. Mal had no idea where Zoe was, nor the rest of the guards, but he blindly guessed that wherever they were they would be making noise. He reached the end of the aisle, only to find a large barrel pressed on his nose.

"Sorry, sir," said Zoe, removing the offending weapon swiftly.

"I'm glad you aren't the hair trigger sort," answered Mal, but without real humor.

"Jayne has the guards pinned down in the back," said Zoe.

"I'm gonna find that hun-dan of our employer and see if a little hostaging can clear this up," said Mal in a low voice.

Zoe nodded. "I thought you were him. He's around here somewhere."

Darting past the second to last row, Mal came back to where he started. It was dark where the oddly shaped cargo met the wall, and the sound of a gun being cocked came to Mal's ears just before he saw the dark shadow. He dodged.

Zoe fell to the ground, clutching an arm with clenched teeth, and Mal drew his gun in automatic response to the fire. Lord Tembriar stepped forth with an aim at Mal's head, but neither fired.

"So you can fight for yourself," commented Mal.

Lord Tembriar's eyes were wide open, but his hand was only twitching slightly. He shifted his aim to Mal's chest, ruining the latter's plan to duck and jump forward. Discomfort reigned in his face.

"You're not calling your men," said Mal again.

"You must really thing you're something, coming up against me," said Lord Tembriar, and Mal had to applaud the way he was holding himself. "You must know that I wouldn't let those who I was helping be stronger than me."

"So does the excess money stuff you up so much that you can't hear with your ears?" asked Mal. "We're not related to your former associates, not in the least."

"Then why won't you give up the cargo?" demanded Lord Tembriar.

"Fine, we'll give up the cargo," said Mal. "Don't make a difference on the paycheck, I'm sure, and no one else is gonna buy your go-se chickens."

Lord Tembriar took a step forward, sticking out his gun even more. "See? You can't even play honest for a whole day."

"I never said I was the citizen who followed every tilde of the gorram law," explained Mal in a cool tone. "But a cryo box with life signs is hardly on the honest side of the law; I was well within honesty's bounds in having a look-see."

Tembriar didn't answer, just stood with his aimed gun. Mal glanced down at Zoe. The wang ba dan lordling did have a fine aim, having shot her gun hand so that the gun had flown many feet away. If she made a move, Mal (and apparently Zoe) had no doubt that his lordship would catch her before she got the weapon back.

"We gonna talk 'till my merc shoots all your men?" asked Mal.

Lord Tembriar didn't answer.

"You can't shoot me, can you," said Mal with a dark grin.

"If you make a move, I swear—"

"I'm not doubting your word there," said Mal hastily. "But you have to wait 'till the opportune moment; you can't shoot me before I make a move. Your blood is blue, but it isn't cold."

"You won't shoot me either," answered Lord Tembriar defensively. "I don't know why, but you won't."

Mal didn't answer, but he was surprised at the little man's discovery of the probably unfortunate truth.

"I'm no good to you as a murder victim," continued his lordship with a bit of a sneer.

Mal sighed. It was good that his employers weren't getting too smart; they'd see right through him, someday. All firing had stopped for a moment.

_Mal? Things over? _Wash's voice bled out of the intercom system.

"No code speak!" warned Lord Tembriar hastily, taking another step forward.

"Yeah, Wash?" asked Mal.

"I got a wave, just audio. I'm gonna patch it through to you."

"What in hell's name is going on here!" snorted Lord Tembriar.

_Captain Reynolds?_

"Good God!" breathed out Lord Tembriar, and his gun dropped away from Mal.

"Lady Tembriar," answered Mal, his eyebrows raised.

_high-pitched nervous giggle_

"There something you wanna say?" asked Mal.

_Oh, Captain Reynolds, I forgot something._

"Did you now?" asked Mal. "I think I know what it is."

_Well, you are smart, but really I have no idea how I forgot to send that bill to Lord Tembriar. Like must attract like, don't you think? Absent minded, really._

"Well, now that you mention it, I do remember that fact being discussed by us," said Mal.

_Don't worry, I've sent it now. Wouldn't want to cause any problems, of course. Have a good trip?_

"It could be worse," admitted Mal slowly.

_Don't bother getting back on how my dear takes it when he gets your shipment! I can picture how happy he'll be better than any message could. So long!"_

The comm cut short, and Lord Tembriar lowered his arm fully. His left hand came up and rubbed his forehead. "Good God," he muttered, "Good God, good God, good God."

"I'm not so sure of that fact myself," said Mal after a breath, as he cocked his head in a less tightly-strung manner, "but I think our situation's pretty cleared up."

"How could she do such a thing!" demanded Lord Tembriar, shaking his hand in disbelief. "And then hire you?"

Mal frowned at the disdain in the tone, but he answered with, "I'd like my ship back, now. Not too keen on the whole wondering and analyzing business. I'd like payment, as well."

Lord Tembriar withdrew a small pouch from his dress coat and tossed it to Mal. "Oh take it! But you'll space that cargo before I hit planetside. This is hardly all my fault, you know—you don't present the most trustworthy appearance."

"I work hard on that, actually," said Mal. His gun hand was still up, and he waved it at Lord Tembriar. "Goodbye now."

"It is time to leave, men," called Lord Tembriar. He walked past Mal and Zoe without another look.

"Sir?" asked the head guard, as the men, many wounded, started coming out from where Jayne had pinned them against the far wall.

"This has been more trouble than I can afford," said Lord Tembriar. "I don't want to see these faces ever again. But no killing."

"Sir, do you see what they—" began the guard again.

"You'll get a bonus, Slope!" snapped Lord Tembriar. He stood by the door, the guard in front of him. "Out, out!" he added as the guard stood slightly stunned, beckoning with his hands.

Mal stood for a moment, the anti-climax weighing a little heavily on him. Jayne came down from the balcony.

"What? No more shooting?" The big man sounded almost disappointed.

_Mal, I'm getting federal chatter on the radio—I think the forgery's discovered_

Well, that was more like usual. Mal swore under his breath.

"Sir, we won't escape if a ship gets close enough to spot us," said Zoe, a kerchief now wrapped around her arm.

"Wait, ain't they gonna shoot us if we don't dump the cargo?" asked Jayne.

"We'll have to space it, quick," said Mal. He thumped Jayne on the shoulder. "You and Zoe start unbuckling the cargo. Wash, get us ready to get out of here! Kaylee?"

* * *

Simon and River sat, listening for further gunfire. It had been loud out there, and Book had stood by the door, his head cocked as he interpreted what was going on. It had been loud for a while, and River had clung whimpering to Simon as the rapid bulletfire carried on right outside their door. Then it stopped, and they heard the crew's voices below. Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"They're gone," came a familiar voice through the door.

Book unlocked and opened up.

"We don't have much time, so anyone who wants to survive had best get down in that bay and unstrap those boxes," said Mal hastily.

"I understand," said Book, following the captain out of the shuttle.

Simon did not entirely, but felt the urgency and so followed. As they headed down the stairs, there was a hum and a rumble as the engine restarted.

"Good girl, Kaylee," Simon heard the captain murmur as they all quickly descended the steps.

"We don't have time to secure the other property," reported Zoe, coming to meet them.

"Here, let me take care of that," said Simon, stepping forward as he saw the makeshift bloody rag.

"Ain't got time, doctor," answered Zoe. "I'll appreciate some care once I know I'm gonna live long enough to enjoy it."

"That's right," said Mal. "Just loosen the straps. We'll have to space the whole bay."

"Yes sir," said Zoe with a little sigh.

Kaylee came running down from the engine room. "We okay, Cap'n?"

"We need to cut loose these straps," said Mal. "Get to work!"

Falling in line, they all began hastily moving through the cargo bay. Simon was the slowest, Jayne the fastest, but all they cared about was finishing before Wash broke the bad news.

_I'm getting readings of a ship leaving planet-side, probably federal_

"Let's get with it, people!" called Mal, as if they needed encouragement.

Unbuckling, cutting, trying to avoid being tangled or crushed, each section of the cargo bay was set free to the motions and demands of outside forces.

_Almost definitely federal, and coming for us_

"Done!" called Mal.

"Done!" called Kaylee.

"Just a damn minute," swore Zoe under her breath. Simon undid his last strap and rushed over to hold a strap steady as Zoe slashed with her left arm. "Done!" Zoe called, nodding her gratitude to him.

"Done!" called Jayne.

"Wash, I want us gone in fifteen seconds," called Mal as they all moved towards the common area. The last person came in, and Simon made sure River was among them, and then the door was shut. "Open the airlock, Wash," called Mal into the intercom.

There was a clunk, and then they saw through the window as the cargo tumbled and thudded out the door, leaving an empty bay.

_We are out of here, and just in time_ was Wash's final report before the engine roared as they blasted away.

Mal breathed out slowly as the door closed and pressure returned to his cargo bay.

"Aw, your cryo box got spaced," said Kaylee to Simon as she peered through the window.

"I didn't have a use for it anyway," said Simon, shrugging.

"Yeah, but you coulda got a good price for it," said Kaylee.

"I like being alive better," said Simon.

Kaylee gave a relieved smile. "Yeah, I believe that."

"And we live to fight another day," said Mal.

"As little as that seemed likely," added Zoe.

"Come in here and let me deal with that arm," said Simon, opening the infirmary door.

Zoe grimaced and followed him in, but not before turning to Mal and saying, "Sir, never again."

"Hmm?" asked Mal.

"No more folks with clout," said Zoe simply.

"Yeah, least normal criminals don't go callin' the feds; they kill ya with their own guys," said Jayne.

Mal had nothing to respond to that with, so he went up to check with Wash.

"You, um, don't need any help with that, do you?" asked Kaylee, lingering uncomfortably around the infirmary door while Simon cut open Zoe's sleeve to attend to the bullet wound.

"No, not at all," said Simon, looking up for a moment from where he was cleaning the entrance site of the bullet with antibiotics.

"I'll just go then," said Kaylee, and quickly left the increasingly bloody sight.

Zoe grunted a little as Simon probed the wound.

"It'd be best if you lay back and relaxed," he advised, holding a clean cloth to the wound with one hand while reaching over to the counter with the other for a piece of equipment.

"I've had plenty of experience with bullet wounds, doctor, and I don't need you to tell me how to deal with them," said Zoe firmly.

"Right," said Simon, giving her a shot of painkiller as he prepared for an extraction. "But I'm not going to let you flinch at the wrong time and make this more damaging. You should lie back at least."

Zoe rather grudgingly complied, but Simon was simply glad that she did. Mal had refused to let Simon see to his own arm shot after the last job, the "graze" as he put it, and had come back later for an antibiotic for the small infection that had ensued. Simon preferred to prevent rather than treat when it came down to it.

"What happened?" asked Simon, partly out of curiosity and partly to keep Zoe's attention on something unrelated.

"There was shooting," said Zoe, her jaw unclenching as the painkiller began to work. "Some chasing, some standoff. Lady Tembriar called in, cut it all short, if unintentionally."

"That was lucky," said Simon quietly. The bullet had gone deeply into the muscle, but thankfully was nowhere near the artery. He knew that the painkiller was not complete, but thankfully Zoe was apparently willing herself to stay still. Her face was the military face, one he had seen before, and appreciated. Soldiers made both the worst and the best patients, experiencing great pain with stony endurance while refusing to seek treatment when necessary.

"Sometimes our luck holds," answered Zoe, closing her eyes for a moment. Simon had found the bullet and was preparing to pull it out. "But we should never have been in that situation."

"This wasn't normal, then?" asked Simon, as he removed the bullet as gently as possible. Zoe barely registered it, and Simon quickly pressed the bandage to slow the flow of blood that followed the removal.

Zoe half-snorted, and Simon found her negative answer somewhat reassuring. "This will heal well if you don't stress it," he said, beginning to wrap gauze around the arm. "I'll give you an antibiotic shot as well, and there shouldn't be any infection if you keep it clean."

"Thank you, doctor," said Zoe cleanly, sitting up.

"Why else am I here?" commented Simon, with much more seriousness than such a statement usually contained.

Zoe left, and Simon cleaned up the area with the sense of satisfaction, however small, that came from doing that which he loved. River came in as soon as Zoe was gone, and watched as he put the bloody rags away, her general quiet contemplation back as the tension was gone.


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue

Inara docked her shuttle with the usual ease of any of her actions, but the turmoil inside came through only in her deep eyes. Kaylee came bounding up the stairs to meet her, planting a quick kiss to her cheek as she exclaimed:

"Oh, 'Nara, I am glad you're back!"

"So am I, mei mei," said Inara. "But what on earth has gone on while I was gone? I got only the barest of messages."

"Oh, lots," said Kaylee with an exhalation. "You hungry? We're just having lunch."

"Assuming I get some answers from you during it," said Inara with a slightly relieved laugh, "of course." Nothing too terrible could have happened, she surmised.

* * *

"Will you read to me tonight?" asked River, nearly an hour after Zoe had left the infirmary.

"Read?" asked Simon, coming willingly out of his reverie as River suddenly became less distant.

"Soothing words, soothing voice," she said, not quite looking him in the eye. "Remedy for nightmares," she added in a low voice.

"Of course," said Simon.

"Lunch first," she said with a hint of a smile, her face losing any hint of worry.

Simon wasn't sure if anyone had remembered lunch, but he and River went up to the kitchen and there found Inara and Kaylee.

"Hello, you two," said Inara, smiling up at them.

"I didn't know you were due back," said Simon.

"Wash let me know once the trouble was over, and I was well ready to return," she said. "Besides, you all had excitement without me—I had to find out as soon as possible."

Simon nodded and left them, preparing his own and River's lunch while the young women continued.

"So then, Wash stalled Serenity."

"No!"

"I know, it hurt, it really did. I told him not to fly fancy, but he did a _barrel roll_!"

"Surely not for no reason," Inara said, always protective of everyone.

"Well, we _were_ being shot at."

"Kaylee! Why didn't you tell me that first!"

Simon glanced over and saw Kaylee give a sheepish grin.

Inara laughed. "It's all right—I know how you love her. What else?"

"Well, while I was fixing her, Cap'n and Zoe fought off the guards, and then Lady Tembriar called and fixed it all up, though not before Zoe got shot."

Inara blinked. "She's all right, I assume from your nonchalance?"

"Oh yeah, she got patched up real nice," assured Kaylee. "Weren't more than a shoulder wound anyway."

Book wandered into the kitchen.

"Well, Shepherd, I hear I must thank you for your part in this fiasco," said Inara, smiling up at him.

"Oh, we all ended up doing our parts," he answered, a tinge of discomfort in his face, though whether from the Companion or the deceit no one could tell.

"I prayed," spoke up River to Book.

"That's very nice," said Book, smiling at her.

Inara looked over her shoulder to look at River, and then turned back to Kaylee. "So, anything you forgot to tell me?"

"Oh!" said Kaylee, remembering something.

Inara tilted her head to one side, wondering what other disaster had befallen the crew.

"Simon wore a mustache."

Inara laughed, and Simon, listening in from behind the counter, very deliberately paid attention to his food.

* * *

"You okay?" asked Mal as Zoe passed him in the hallway.

She glanced at her shoulder. "Fine, sir. Bullet came out cleanly."

"That's good," acknowledged Mal, then stopped as Zoe gave him a look. "What?"

"Nothing, sir. Just thinking that I'm glad it was the doc and not you who was poking around in my good arm."

"Yeah, well, so am I," said Mal. "He did good today."

"Lunch is going on," said Zoe, looking back over her shoulder to the kitchen. "I need to relay to my husband the earful Kaylee gave me about his exploits."

Mal nodded, and continued on into the kitchen. Kaylee was leaning over the table to where Inara was leaning on her elbows, listening with bright eyes, but Mal didn't hear what was said to cause them suddenly to laugh. Inara was nearly overcome before she became aware of Mal's presence.

"Hey," said Mal. "Heard you were back."

"And I heard about your near demise," answered Inara, straightening up and brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "I was beginning to worry about my security deposit."

"I'll make sure to keep that in mind, next time I almost lose my ship," answered Mal with a twisted grin. He continued on to the counter, grabbing a plate and some food almost at random. Glancing to the side, he saw Simon. "Doctor," he said.

"Captain," answered Simon, without looking up.

"Zoe says you did good," said Mal, his eyes focused on pouring a drink.

"I'm glad to hear I was of service," said Simon coolly.

"Yeah, well, it was the only thing that went good," said Mal. "Not that things usually go good—told you that—but this one was a pile of—" He broke off, clearing his throat.

"So this won't be typical," said Simon.

"No," said Mal shortly. "Well, yes, but not with the feds. Don't usually have the feds. Try not to, actually."

Simon nodded slowly, pretty sure he knew what the Captain was getting at. Mal stood for a moment, lip twitching nervously, then walked off to the table with his food.

Simon joined River in the alcove, pondering his choice to join this crew. For a few hours he had begun chastising himself for agreeing to the Captain's ludicrous suggestion, exposing himself to more danger than any Alliance could pose among this crew, but now he was starting to understand that the danger was less overall. It just happened to be of the strangest kind. And as long as Simon could submit to wearing shepherd's robes and fake moustaches, and as long as he could learn how to cook a basic meal, he might survive.

There was always River to worry about, but Simon reluctantly acknowledged to himself that he would never again be able to predict her reactions. One step at a time, that was all he could take on the path to her well being. So far River was surviving, and Simon had a feeling that he would too. They would stay, on this eccentric trip. He could only hope that the next job would be of the—how did the Captain like to put it? Ah yes, the "weak tea" variety. Surely they couldn't all be so wild...

Surely.

"All right, _who_ took one of the chickens before we spaced them?"

So maybe it would be better to hold off on more permanent judgment, Simon thought.

"Can we eat it?"

The End


End file.
